Ideas are Bullet Proof
by Phan3145
Summary: A new take on Erik and Christine's story. What if Erik and Christine had met before her father died? What if Erik was partly responsible for Gustave's Death, and what if Gustave had given Erik his blessing to be around his daughter? Summery will be edited, later on. Give it a try and tell me what you think! 8D
1. Chapter 1

**Why, hello everybody. It seems that even though school is about to end I am still an ever devoted Phan. I came up with this story a couple years ago and never thought to put it up, but thanks to a movie I started to recently become infatuated with I figured out what I can do with the plot. In my polls, 'dark plot' and '1870 time period' won out and I'm using my other movie for the darker scenes. Don't fret about that though; the story will only have a few dark chapters. I'm sure once everyone has figured out what movie I am using as filler a hundred dark and or depressing thoughts over how this will end will swirl through your brain, but remember, it's me guys. I'm an E/C fan all the way, and I would never EVER kill Erik...or ****_really_**** hurt Christine.**

**I'm sure if you're reading this then you've read my summery and there is no use repeating it so, Disclaimer: I own nothing POTO or VfV.**

**Ideas are Bullet Proof**

It was another start to a dreary night, just like the rest. Cold, dark, and gloomy; the usual streets of Paris at night. While day was only slightly better, the night was deadly. With demons and shadows that skulk about unchecked. Only creatures like them, such as myself, could survive these streets on a daily basis, but any other poor unfortunate souls, who would wander into their back alley lairs at night, would surely never be seen again. Except, maybe in the morning paper's obituary column.

I never have to worry about that though, if any demon tries to tangle with me, my 'magical lasso,' will surely take care of them. It's strange though, I never pictured myself as who I am today. I never wanted to hurt anybody in my life, I just wanted to be loved, or at least be treated like a common human being. But no, that part of me that cried out for acceptance and affection all those years ago was a child's hope, a hope that has long been extinguished and dead. I am not alive, I am not even human. I am an idea.

Don't you see? An idea does not bleed, it cannot feel pain, and above all...it does not love. It cannot be loved in return either. After nearly nineteen years of life, not even being loved by one's own mother, these truths have lead me to believe that this is what I am, and I have accepted it.

Now I bring you back to the present, the sun is nearly done setting and I am standing on top of a roof of a normal house, in a seemingly quiet neighborhood. But wait, there it is. The quiet and soft flow of a melody being played on an early modeled, Strainer violin. The strings have been tightened to perfection and the sound just floats through the air like a delicate puff of smoke. My feet are carrying me towards the sound before my brain has told them to, but I couldn't care less.

I have been trying to discover the source of this wondrous playing for over a month now, and every time I go to hear it, it stops. The person never begins in the same location and they never end in the same location either. I am so desperate to discover who the wonderful player is that I have resigned myself to standing on random rooftops and waiting for hours upon hours during sunset everyday to hear a single note, anything, then taking off in a vicious sprint towards it.

Tonight, the sound was closer and my feet were going faster than ever, and I knew this was the night. I made a final leap then grabbed onto a sturdy gutter and silently dropped to the ground in a single fluid motion. I quickly surveyed my surroundings for any danger, six people in total. A couple with a baby held in the mother's arms, two young boys sitting on the ground a little ways away, and the violinist who was entertaining these people. I crouched low, staying hidden in the shadows, observing the magnificent player.

He seemed to be a little past his prime, but still young. He had his eyes closed as he played, letting the music wash over him, the mark of a true musician. His hair was a shaggy black with a few wisps of grey to reveal his age, he was tall but not an overly tall man, and he had stubble on his chin that only accentuated his age.

Yes, he was an average man, but he did have a gift for music. I stayed and listened till the last note died out. The other people had come and gone, occasionally tossing in a coin or two for his performance, and now he was all alone. He looked around then carefully returned his violin to its case. He sat down on a nearby wooden crate, turning his head up to look at the sky, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

I don't know why I had stayed as long as I did, but in that moment I realized I had made a grave error in my observations. There were not six people to begin with, there were seven. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned violently, nearly giving myself whiplash in the process. Before me stood a small boy, no more than eight or nine perhaps, with big brown eyes. With me crouching he came to eye level, but I was sure if I were standing I'd be at least a head taller, if not two. He had a brown cloak on that was a little big on him, with a hat on top of his head. He had stringy brown hair poking out of the hat that almost looked...curled. But I didn't focus on this, I focused on the fact that I hadn't noticed him before this, and the fact I hadn't heard him approach me.

He didn't even flinch when I turned around, and he stared me right in the eye. He didn't even glance at my mask, he just smiled, "Did you enjoy my father's playing?"

I stared at him in utter shock, too shocked to speak, and simply nodded. His smile became even wider, revealing the fact he had recently lost two, and probably the last, of his baby teeth. One on the top left and one on the bottom right of his mouth. It was almost...cute.

"That's good," he said. "If you want to hear him again we'll be two blocks away. Papa never plays in the same place twice because he wants to...to...advertise, yes that's it. He says that if he wants to become a great musician all he has to do is play all over and news of him will spread by word of mouth."

I couldn't stop staring at the boy. He was talking to a man clothed in all black, hiding behind a corner, and wearing a mask. Why was he not afraid? He just shook his head, the smile never fading from his face, "Well, I see that you aren't going to speak, so I'll take my leave now. Have a pleasant night."

The boy headed towards his father, but stopped abruptly, and turned back in my direction, "By the way, you're quite the acrobat." At my puzzled expression the boy pointed up, "I saw you earlier, and I've seen you on the rooftops before. That's why I decided to talk to you, you must really like music if you've been searching for papa as long as you have. Even though you don't talk I like you, you seem nice. Well, good-bye."

I raised my hand in a sign of farewell and faded into the shadows, but I did not leave. I saw the boy run over to his father and hug him, his father smiled at him, "Chris, there you are. Where have you been?"

'Chris' smiled and turned back in my direction, "I was..." he trailed off and looked upset when he didn't see me then continued, "I was playing with a stray cat, but he isn't there anymore."

The man frowned, "I'm sorry child, but not to worry. I collected a lot of money tonight, and I think we can go to that little cafe you love so much for breakfast in the morning."

The boy let out a cry of delight then hugged his father, "Thank you, papa! Are you sure though? You worked really hard for that money, and I would hate for you to spend all of it just for a small trip to a cafe."

The man hugged the boy once again, "You are the one thing I treasure most in this world, I don't care how hard I have to work as long as you never lose that bright smile of yours."

The man stood and picked up his son, carrying him away as they returned to their home. Strange, I've never seen a family so happy living in squalor like this. Two blocks away tomorrow, eh?

(Two weeks later)

I don't know why I kept returning every evening to listen to this man, who I discovered was named Gustave Daae. Or why I continued to talk to his child, I even made it a point to seek him out on occasions when I couldn't spot him immediately. I was developing a terribly close bond with this man and his son, a bond I knew I was going to have to break. One night in particular though, the night I decided was my final night there, I noticed something wrong.

There was a large crowd when Gustave was playing, and at the end of his performance I was sure that he had collected enough money to feed his small family for an entire week. Money like that was sure to draw attention, and not the kind Gustave wanted. Stragglers that hid in the shadows afterwards were sure signs of that, this isn't good.

I waved good-bye to Chris, silently, as I always did, and then followed them to make sure they returned home safely. I had learned in the past week that they were poor as dirt, but Gustave inherited a small flat that served as their home from his deceased parents. It was fairly close to their location tonight, but I wanted to make sure.

I shadowed the two on the rooftops and everything seemed quiet; then it happened. A shadow raised its fist and brought it down on Gustave's head. The man dropped his cup of money as he was pulled to the side and held back. His son immediately scrambled to pick up the money but was pulled back by the collar.

One of the shadows hissed, "No you don't boy, give us the money."

Chris thrashed in the man's grasp but in his haste to get away his hat fell off and his- no, not his, _her_ hair fell down. The man chuckled darkly, "Look here boys, it seems we have a young lady here. Well what's it gonna be missy? You wanna give us the money, or have us get it through other means?"

The girl bit his hand and as soon as he released her she spit on his shoe and said, "Don't touch me! Leave us alone!"

The man shook his hand a couple of times with a toxic grin that turned the girl ghost white, "You're going to regret doin' that."

The girl went to run but the man soon had her up against the wall with his hand around her neck. Gustave struggled with new fervor, but four men were holding him and no amount of struggling was going to free him. The girl pulled against the man's beefy hand and cried, "Let me go, take the money. Please just let my papa and I go!"

The man chuckled darkly, and that was it for me. "Let. Her. Go."

All seven people turned in my direction, the one holding the girl spat, "Go away ya freak, we're busy here."

I saw red, if it wasn't bad enough he was threatening Gustave and his daughter, he had the audacity to call me..."Let me re-phrase that. Let her go, and run, because you will not want to be here when I lose my temper."

The man and his cronies all began to laugh, then the man holding the girl said, "Your temper? What ya gonna do? There's five against one, and I'm not 'fraid of you, ya freak."

"You should be," I hissed under my breath as I struck. My Punjab lasso was around the man's neck in an instant, and when that happened the girl was dropped to the ground and she quickly put some much needed distance between us. The man struggled against me and when his cronies figured out that he wasn't going to escape, they immediately let go of Gustave and focused their attention on me.

Gustave grabbed his daughter and disappeared somewhere in the shadows. I returned my attention to my attackers. I had one man gasping for breath in my hold, while the other four had switch blades in their hands surrounding me. One was directly behind me, one to my right, another to my left, and the final one directly in front of me. They all had murder gleaming in their eyes, but then again, so did I.

The one directly in front of me charged, followed by the man to my right. I quickly recovered the knife from the one in front of me, kicked him back with my foot, then took the knife and stabbed the one to my right in the shoulder. The one to my right cried out in pain and when he bent his head slightly I clubbed him with my fist, successfully knocking him unconscious. By this time, the one in front of me was back to his feet, and as he tried to knock me to the ground I spun with my cape, confusing him enough to catch him off balance then ram his head into the wall. Two down, two to go.

The other two came at me at the same time, leaving me no choice but to toss the beefy man to the ground and deal with them. One jumped on my back, trying to hold me while the other went to stab me, but I spun around and the man plunged his blade into his comrade's back. I heard him scream in pain, then threw him off my back where he crumpled to the ground. The last man backed away from me, but I wasn't going to let him off that easy.

He realized this as well and charged one final time before I grabbed him by his arm twisted it and spun him around. He thrashed and tried to head butt me a couple of times, but I put my foot in front of his and pushed with all my might. The man toppled forward then flipped on his back, he looked dazed for a moment, but when his eyes focused then gazed up at me a flicker of fear appeared, and then I gave one good hard kick to his head and his eyes closed. Blood trickled out of his nose; I guess I had broken it. Good.

I turned around and my Punjab lasso was on the ground, I walked over and picked it up. _He got away_. My grip tightened on the lasso when this realization crossed my mind and I could have spit fire, if it wasn't for the quiet question that reached my ears, "Who are you?"

I turned and there stood Gustave, holding his daughter in his arms. She was holding on to his neck tightly, but she had that ever warm smile on her face. Now that her hair was down she looked much older, around eleven or twelve, although her height and girth argued otherwise. She was such a petite thing.

"Who?" I asked. "Who is but the form, following the function of what, and what I am is a man in a mask."

"I can see that." Gustave said, staring at me curiously.

"Of course you can, I'm not questioning your powers of observation, I'm merely remarking upon the paradox of asking a masked man _who_ he is."

Once more Gustave looked confused, and his daughter turned her head slightly in wonderment.

I chuckled, "But on this most auspicious of nights, permit me then, in lieu of the more commonplace soubriquet, to suggest the character of this dramatis persona."

I spread my arms out wide, letting my cape spread in a grand gesture, "Voila! In view humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the "vox populi" now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin, vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition!"

Gustave's mouth was hung open as if he wanted to say something but didn't know where to start. I laughed then bowed, "Verily this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose so let me simply add that it's my very good honor to meet you."

Gustave masked his confusion then chuckled nervously, nodding his head, "N-nice to meet you too."

His daughter looked just as confused as Gustave was a moment ago then asked, "Are you like a crazy person?"

I heard Gustave whisper something, her name, in a scolding tone, but I did not catch it. I simply laughed, "I am quite sure I have been called so before, but to whom might I ask am I speaking?"

The girl looked to her father and he nodded once. She looked down and in a timid voice said, "I'm Christine."

"Christine," I said, trying the name out. "Chris-tine. Of course you are."

Gustave looked puzzled again, "What do you mean?"

I shook my head, "I simply meant that of course if she was 'Chris' as a boy, surely as a girl her name would be 'Christine.'"

Gustave held his daughter a little tighter at this, "How did you know her name was 'Chris' before?"

Before I had a chance to answer Christine giggled nervously, "Um, papa, meet uh, the stray cat."

Gustave's eyes widened as this new information was revealed. "Christine! This is the stray cat you have been 'playing' with?"

Christine shrank away a bit at being scolded but I held up my hand, "Have no fear sir, I have not, nor would I ever, wish to harm your daughter in any way, shape, or form."

"Ah." Gustave said as he shifted Christine in his arms then stuck out his hand, "Well, Gustave Daae, nice to meet you sir; and what may I call you?"

I shook his hand and was struck dumb with the question, I didn't plan on giving my name to him and I couldn't think of something to say. Thankfully, Christine answered for me, "He doesn't talk about himself papa, he hasn't even told _me_. Let's just call him...Black Angel or Monsieur Black for short."

Both myself and Gustave looked at Christine curiously. She just smiled even brighter, "Well, all he wears is black and he saved us from those terrible men, like a Guardian Angel. So why not?"

I chuckled, "I am by no means an Angel, but I find I like the name, 'Monsieur Black'. As you have said, Christine, why not?"

Gustave sighed with a shake of his head, "You encourage her sir, but if that is what you wish us to call you, then so be it. Now, our house is just down the block. Why not come in for some warm soup. It'll only take a minute to whip up."

I was about to decline with great fervor, but Christine cried, "Oh, please Monsieur Black! Please! It's the least we could do since you saved us! Please, for me?"

I stared at her big brown eyes and I knew, I was sunk. I nodded, "Very well."

Christine beamed and her father set her down, grasping her hand as we all walked to their home.

(After Dinner)

Christine was in bed now and Gustave and I had been discussing music for over an hour. Finally I stood, prepared to leave and say what I had to say, "Your daughter will not see me anymore; I just thought you should know that. I am returning to my home, far away from here, where I belong."

Gustave's happy attitude evaporated in that moment and he held himself stiffer than before, sitting up straighter in his chair, "Oh. If I may inquire, why _did_ you stay as long as you did?"

I shrugged, "I'm not quite sure, really. The music I guess, it spoke to me. Although, the company was a nice change of pace as well. Your daughter is quite the socialite."

Gustave tilted his head back and began to rub his eyes, "That she is, it worries me of how trusting she is. Thank God this time she trusted someone good, and honorable."

I ducked my head at this, "I am by no means good or honorable sir. I wear a bloody mask for Christ's sake!"

Gustave chuckled and I gritted my teeth, "What?"

He covered his mouth and said, "I'm sorry, it's just, just because you wear a mask and...well I will admit have killed before, does not mean that you are not good or honorable. You saved not only my life tonight, but my daughter's life as well, and I thank you for that. You are welcome here or around my daughter anytime you wish."

Gustave paused then said, "If I know you like I think I do however, you are serious about leaving. Knowing this, I believe I will start carrying a fire weapon with me at all times, so I can better protect Christine and myself. I wish you a long and happy life, my friend."

Gustave held his hand out once more and I shook it. With a small 'farewell' I bowed and quickly exited the small flat. Strange, this may be the first time I have ever felt_ truly _accepted. It was nice, but I wasn't going to get used to it. I was going to leave them be and never return...but there is one more small thing I could, and _had_ to do for them.

I returned to my 'home' under the _Opera Populaire_ and began writing immediately,

_Dear Monsieur Lefevere,_

_ I have recently discovered a great musical talent in the slums of Paris. While I know that the Populaire orchestra is full, I know as well that you have other connections high up in the music industry, and I have a small request of you. There is a man, named Gustave Daae; I would like you to telegram your old colleague Monsiuer Baudin then ask him to audition this man and see if he is not worthy of his sponsorship. I promise you it will be worth his while should he accept, and if you do not believe me when I say this than I shall wager two months of my salary on it. I am that confidant this man will be well known by Paris before the year is up. _

_Your Obedient Servant,_

_ O.G._

**So, that is chapter one. I hope you guys like it, and I will NOT be updating every Friday until this story has at least 5 reviews (and I have at least two more chapters written) Oh! I'm also holding a contest! The first person to guess my movie I mixed in here will get a sneak peek of the next chapter, and I gave you guys TONS of hints so this should be easy. FantomPhan33, sorry but I already told you so you can't play, but since you are helping me with my summery you might get a sneak peek anyway. Ha ha, okay everybody, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! 8D**


	2. Chapter 2

**A few things I want to say before I get this chapter rolling. The first thing is, this chapter is very long so get comfortable. Second, the Christine I'm using is Emmy Rossum but her conditions in the Opera are like the Charles Dance version, she cleans and stuff. And last, but certainly not least a big congrats to Phantomfan01 for guessing the right movie mix up, the answer was, 'V for Vendetta'. If none of you have ever seen it besides her then, GO WATCH IT! There will be another quiz at the bottom to get a sneak peak of the next chapter like Phantomfan01. Ok, enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

Nearly seven years now, seven years since I've seen Monsieur Black. So much has happened since then, yet it feels like only yesterday when Papa had told me I would not hear from him again and I cried myself to sleep. I had lost one of my only childhood friends, without ever getting a chance to say good-bye. I think that was what I grieved over the most; but did he ever think of me as a 'friend'? Did he think of me at all?

He must have thought of me or at least of Papa once. Surprisingly, after meeting Monsieur Black, Papa was offered an audition for the Baudin Company's sponsorship. When I asked him what exactly that meant he told me that this Monsieur Baudin would give him money to compose music and play all around France. In taking the audition he was soon accepted and became famous, well known all over France. We even played in Papa's home country, Sweden, a couple of times.

That was also the couple of times I got to accompany Papa, singing while he played the violin. Those were the happiest times of my life, and my fondest memories of my father. In those few and fleeting moments it was just he and I on stage, nobody else, just our small family harmonizing and doing what we loved to do. I couldn't stop smiling the whole time we were performing.

It was bliss, we were able to eat every day after the audition, which helped me change and grow as I should have. I soon lost my baby fat in my face, gained a healthy amount of weight in my torso, and matured into the woman I am today. I barely recognize myself now.

We also immediately required a new flat in a better part of town. I was able to meet people my own age, one in particular boy named, Raoul De Chagny, left a mark on me. Although his family didn't approve of me, we still became the closest of friends, and when I turned thirteen we became 'childhood sweethearts.' Even though I wasn't interested in him romantically as I should have been, I found it quite enjoyable to take strolls around town, hold hands, and talk of the future.

Talking of things that were never meant to, and would never, be. All too soon my blissful life came to an abrupt end...when my father was murdered.

One late night we were returning to our original family flat, where we were visiting after our two year absence, when we were attacked in the same alley as before. My father had acquired a pistol since the last time, but like before it was five against one. Like the coward I am, I ran when he told me to run, and that is the biggest regret of my life. I hid somewhere in the shadows nearby and did not return until I heard two gunshots, then a horrible cry of pain, and finally silence.

I remember stepping out from my hiding spot and seeing no one. At first I thought they had taken him, which would have been a blessing compared to what I found. I heard a moan and looked down, only to find my father lying on the ground soaked in his own blood. He had been shot in the side, and was bleeding profusely. I screamed in horror and fell to his side, trying to tie my scarf around him to stop the bleeding but it was no use.

My red scarf soon turned burgundy and my father was gasping in his every breath from the pain, "Somebody help! Please! Help me!"

The streets and back alleys of Paris were now deserted, and I was utterly alone. I jumped up, ready to run for help, but turning suddenly on my heel back around, deciding no matter what I would not leave my father, I slipped and landed on the ground. My head hit with a hard _thud_, my vision started to swirl and turn black, and even though I knew my father was in fatal condition I couldn't stop myself from succumbing to the welcoming blackness of unconsciousness.

The last thing I saw was my father on the ground, and a shadow descending from the rooftop to the ground next to him. My vision swirled black and the last thought I had was that a black Angel was coming to escort my father to heaven.

I awoke awhile later in a bed, I latter discovered it was my long time friend and next door neighbor, Madame Giry's bed. Madame Giry had always been very kind to me, and she had apparently heard me scream, finding me outside soon after I had passed out. I learned my father was in the room next to mine, but Madame Giry had confessed to me that he was going to die, that he was living on borrowed time. Even though I did not completely understand what she meant by that, I knew I had to speak to my father.

Madame Giry brought me to his room, and the sight that greeted me brought me to tears in an instant. My father had succumbed to a fever and was drenched in sweat, bloody rags and a water basin sat next to his bed where his wounds had been tended to, and he was oh so pale. Even in this time of despair though, when he saw me enter his room he smiled at me.

"Christine...come here, my child."

I ran over to his bed and threw myself next to him, sobbing and soaking his pillow in tears as I held his hand tightly. I didn't want him to die, not now.

He placed a finger under my chin and brought my head up, "Now, now child, no more tears; please, do not cry for me."

I looked up at him and held his hand against my cheek, trying to push whatever life force I had in me through his hand and into his body. Almost as if reading my mind he said, "Christine, no matter how hard you try, you are not going to be able to save me."

I started to cry even harder at that, and my father pulled me closer then whispered, "Christine, I am so sorry for leaving you like this, but you will not be alone. Madame Giry and her daughter will be your new family; they will take care of you."

I sniffled, "B-but they're n-not y-you."

My father kissed the top of my head, "I know sweetie, I know; but I will always be with you, in here." My father tapped my heart, "I'll be watching over you and guiding you through tough times."

"I understand papa, but even though I'll have Madame Giry and Meg, I'll be alone. Our little family will be over."

My father was silent for a moment then said, "No Christine, you will not be alone. When I'm in heaven child, I will send the Angel of Music to you."

I tilted my head to the side, "Like in the story of Little Lotte?"

"Yes, child." My father said as he smiled. I smiled back and my father sighed contently, "Christine, your smile is the most beautiful thing you could have given me. I now have something to take with me to the afterlife..."

My father trailed off then squeezed my hand tighter, the last words he would ever say barely a whisper, "Be happy, my little Christine, and follow your heart wherever it may lead you. No matter if people tell you differently, promise me, you will do what your heart tells you...and what you know is right."

I promised him as he kissed the back of my hand. The hand that was grasping mine fiercely suddenly lost all strength, and I felt the rhythmic _thump_ of his pulse stop in my grasp within that moment.

"Papa...Papa?!" There was no response, and I knew he was gone.

Ever since then I've been living with Madame Giry and Meg at the _Opera Populaire_, where Madame Giry works. It's strange though, Madame Giry had lived in her small flat ever since she began working at the Opera, but only months after my father's death, and when I had just gotten settled in did the managers suddenly request she live at the Opera full time.

I had to pack up and move once again, only this time it was worse than before. Now I didn't have a father, my only family was busy teaching or practicing ballet, and I felt out of sorts wherever I went. Meg was the only girl my age that I knew, and none of the other girls seemed to want to talk to me or get to know me. I was alone.

At least at first I was; now I have made a few friends in the Ballet, have a nice job cleaning around the Opera, and thanks to Madame Giry I have even been in some of the productions when they need an extra ballerina. I'm not as graceful as the rest but I do my part.

I no longer feel alone, and I'm not always thinking about my father's death. I do constantly have one thing on my mind though, it may have only been a child's fantasy but, where is my Angel of Music?

I've never heard any music late at night or a beautiful voice singing to me softly. I will admit that at times I have felt as if something was watching me and protecting me, but there never was an Angel; and to make matters worse, every time I think of the Angel of Music I inadvertently begin to think of Monsieur Black. My Black Angel.

I sighed deeply as I stood up from waxing the stage, it was late and I was still lost in my thoughts of the past, I needed to get in bed. I went to exit the stage, but something stopped me. I looked around, just to make sure nobody was there, and then ran back to center stage with a smile on my face.

I was going to sing, something I haven't done since coming to the Opera. I don't know why, but the mood suddenly struck me and I felt I would die if I didn't. I didn't really care if I sounded horrible from lack of practice, nobody was here.

I began to hum softly to get the pitches in my head then opened my mouth,

"_You were once my one companion, you were all that mattered._

_You were once a friend and father, then my world was shattered."_

I didn't know I was going to start singing about my father, the words just came to me. This was a dedication to him now, and I hope that wherever he was he could hear me.

"_Wishing you were somehow here again, wishing you were somehow near. _

_Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed, somehow you would be here._

_Wishing I could hear your voice again, knowing that I never would._

_Dreaming of you won't help me to do all that you dreamed I could._

_Passing bells and sculpted Angels, cold and monumental;_

_Seemed for you the wrong companions...you were warm and gentle."_

Angels again, but...my father did find a friend in an Angel, once. As I thought more about my black Angel the song, and my original lyrics, began to change.

"_Too many years fighting back tears, why can't the past just die-?_

_Wishing you were somehow here again, knowing you already said good-bye._

_Try to forgive, teach me to live, give me the strength to try-!_

_No more memories, no more silent tears, no more gazing across the wasted years._

_Help me say good-bye, I never said...good-bye."_

I fell to my knees, beginning to cry. Crying for my father, my mother, my old life, and my long gone Black Angel. I could never forget any of them; and yet every day I forget little details, like what they sounded like, acted like, or even what they looked like. The mental pictures in my head were fading; fading so much I feared soon each and every one would become a simple black shape.

I sat there for I don't know how long, but once I finally composed myself and was about to get up to return to my dormitory I heard a very low whisper, "Brava, brava, bravissima."

I flinched and searched all around me for that mysterious voice, but I could barely see an inch past the stage. Everything was dark, "Show yourself!"

There was nothing but silence at first, and when I was about to scream it again that same soft melodic voice responded, "I heard you, I am to your left, but I beg that you do not move from the spot that you are standing. The light hits you beautifully, and I can see your every detail clearly."

I quickly turned to my left and saw a black shadow, nothing more. I laughed albeit a bit nervously, "You have me at a disadvantage monsieur, you can see me but I cannot see you."

The strange man chuckled, "I intend to keep it that way...for now at least. I only wished to remark upon your marvelous singing, where did you learn to sing like that?"

I stared at the strange man for a moment, wondering why he was taking such an interest in me, apparently I had stayed silent too long, "I do not mean to pry, it was just simple curiosity, you _do_ have a marvelous voice after all."

I shook myself out of my daze quickly, "I'm sorry monsieur, I didn't mean to hold my tongue. My head is clearly not with me at the moment. I learned to sing first from my mother when I was four, and then I furthered my studies with my father after she passed."

The man tilted his head up slightly, allowing me to see his black hair, "Where is your father now?"

I refused to look away, instead staring straight at him, "He's dead. He died five years ago."

The man slowly bowed his head, "Forgive me, I should not have asked."

I shrugged with a small sigh, "It is no great blow, it happened so long ago. As they say, 'time heals all wounds."

He mumbled something I didn't catch and I asked, "Sorry, what was that? I didn't hear you."

The strange man cleared his throat, "As you yourself have told me, your father had passed a long time ago, so I am correct in saying your voice lessons have not been completed?"

I nodded my head, a small blush on my face, "That was the first time I have sung in two years. I am very out of practice, so forgive me if I was not my best." Wait a minute, why was I apologizing? I didn't know he was here, and why _is_ he here anyway?

As if reading my mind he answered, "No need to apologize, you did not know I was here; but this brings me to my purpose of being here. I wish to continue your training and perfect your voice."

I blanched and unintentionally took a step back, "What? I'm sorry if I seem rude monsieur, but I do not know you, and you do not know me. Why would you want to train somebody you have only just met?"

I could not tell but I was sure he was smiling, I could feel it, "Actually I _do_ know you, _Christine_." Another involuntary step back, "I do not wish to scare you child, I have simply been watching over you. Surely you must know who I am. Who am I _Christine_?"

There was something about the way he said my name that caused me to take another step back. It wasn't harsh or threatening, far from it, it was soft and held some foreign emotion behind it that I couldn't decipher.

It made me nervous.

I thought about his question then shook my head, close to either laughing or crying. "No, no, no. You're not my-no, I'm not even going to voice it, it's-it's too unbelievable!"

The man chuckled once again, "So, I take it you no longer believe in the Angel of Music, Christine?"

I gasped, it couldn't be. He stood stock still but continued, "If you are wondering why I have taken so long to come, it is because I had to watch you, see if you were worthy of my tutelage. You have proven to be very kind hearted, and devoted to completing whatever task is asked of you. Your devotion is exactly what I need if I am to teach you, but in the end it is your choice."

A million thoughts were running through my head, but the loudest was screaming, 'say yes!' I didn't want to, this man could be a fake, and who knows what ulterior motives he has if that is the case. I mean if I were to just accept and say, 'sure, strange shadow, I'll let you give me voice lessons. Just the two of us, alone.' Those would be the famous last words of a fool. Finally, I said, "Prove it. Prove to me that you are the Angel of Music."

"Pardon?" He asked, an edge coming to his voice. He sounded aggravated; he was becoming defensive, which only fueled my suspicion.

I stayed calm, I had to, "You had a chance to evaluate me, am I not allowed the same? For all I know you could be lying."

He straightened up, trying to get an inch to escape, "Angels do not lie."

"True," I said. "But a man _does_." He flinched slightly, and if I hadn't been watching him so closely I wouldn't have noticed it.

He sighed, "It is quite fair. What would you have me do?"

This is where my plan fell apart, how _was _he supposed to prove it to me? I had no knowledge of what the Angel of Music could or couldn't do that a human could. I pursed my lips together in thought, and then had an epiphany. "Sing something."

His head tilted slightly to the side and I could _feel_ him smiling once again, "As you wish, _Christine_."

I saw him sway a bit then he began to sing,

"_Child of the wilderness, born into emptiness;_

_Learn to be lonely; learn to find your way in darkness._

_Who will be there for you-, comfort and care for you?_

_Learn to be lonely; learn to be your one companion._

_Never dreamed out in the world, there are arms to hold you;_

_You have always known-, your heart was on its own-!_

_So laugh- in your loneliness, child of the wilderness;_

_Learn to be lonely, learn how to love life that is lived alone._

_Learn to be lonely!_

_ Life can be lived, life can be loved...alone-."_

It seemed for a moment I couldn't breathe, this man _had_ to be the Angel of Music. He had the most beautiful voice I have ever heard, so beautiful I felt a few tears escape my eyes. I quickly wiped them away and said, "I believe you, please forgive me for doubting you."

The man held his hand up, "Think nothing of it, you had every right to be suspicious. Now, since you know the truth, will you give me your consent to train you?"

I quickly nodded, "Yes, oh yes, please."

Suddenly his voice turned very refined, almost professional, "Very well, meet me on the third floor after you are finished cleaning tomorrow. When you, and you alone, arrive I will show you where we will be meeting everyday for practice henceforth."

"Yes, monsieur." I said as I curtsied.

He bowed then said, "Until then, _Christine_."

He suddenly disappeared and I let the shiver that had been threatening to escape when he said my name run up my spine. Not wanting to be alone in the dark any longer, and wanting to be well rested for tomorrow, I quickly ran to my room and climbed into bed. I dreamed of not one Angel, but two.

**So, that's chapter two, I hope it didn't disappoint. There weren't many V for Vendetta influences I know, but I had to set up the whole 'Voice Lessons' thing. Trust me, there will be WAY more later. Okay, sneak peek quiz!**

** 'Who plays V in, V for Vendetta?'**

** or**

** Name one quote from V for Vendetta I DID use.**

**PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! 8D**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Seven years, seven years since I've seen Gustave and his daughter. I don't know why my mind kept returning to the two, why did they have to be burned into my memory so? They were nothing special, just a small family...that I raised to stardom. Ugh! That nagging voice in the back of my head kept popping up lately, I did a good deed, is that so crazy? I'm not a monster after all, well, on the inside at least.

Sighing my discontent, I got up, I couldn't compose anymore. I officially had writer's block. I needed to get out of my 'home' for a while and walk around. Maybe I could find some new inspiration while I was out.

I grabbed my cape and headed for the exit. After rowing for about ten minutes I reached the edge of the lake and quickly ascended the stairs to the first floor.

I began to roam aimlessly around the opera for about an hour when I heard something crash on the stage. I quickly ran through my many tunnels and secret passageways to find a young cleaning girl picking up her multiple brooms and mops that had fallen from their stand.

I leaned on the wooden post on the catwalks, just watching her. She had picked up the last two and leaned them against the wall. She turned her back to leave then quickly turned around, holding her hands up, as if she were telling a dog to stay. She backed up, hands still raised, then dropped them with a sigh when the brooms did not fall.

This might have been a bit cruel, but it was all good fun. She had just begun to wax the stage when I bumped into the wall slightly; this caused the brooms and mops to crash to the floor once again.

The girl looked up and let out an aggravated huff as she threw herself into a standing position. She grabbed all of the brooms and mops at once, saying, "I thought I told you to stay still."

I chuckled at her reaction, and watched as she put all of the supplies into a nearby seat saying, "I don't think you'll be going anywhere now. My company may not be the best, but it's all you have, so be grateful."

I looked at her strangely; she had a delightful and humorous mind. I decided that I had nothing but time to spare, so I stayed. I watched as she cleaned the stage, studying her every detail and memorizing it. She had very long dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, a few freckles on her cheeks that proved at some point in her life she had been out in the sun a long time, and lips that looked as though she hadn't smiled in years...but had smiled quite a bit when she was younger.

Her mouth was close to a straight line, nearly expressionless. Some way or another though, she still managed to look happy. I tried to remember her name from hearing her and the other ballerinas she called 'friends'. After looking at her for so long the name finally hit me, _Christine_. What a strange coincidence.

I looked down at her form and she looked frozen, almost paralyzed. I quietly and quickly slid down on a rope that had me standing in the shadows of stage right. I looked closely into her eyes, they were foggy, dazed almost. Her hand was stilled but I could see her fingers clenching as if gripping something for dear life. She was deep in thought.

It was strange, she was strange. She was tall but was still such a petite thing, she seemed full of light and life, just barely concealing it to the world. She shouldn't have to hide anything from the world, but I've seen people like her before. They are the 'scum' of society and they are so 'weak' and 'pathetic' that they are taught to never look anyone above them in the eye.

While I fell back into my own thoughts I jumped when she suddenly came out of her catatonic state, shaking her head and finishing up her work. Once she had waxed the last spot she brushed herself off and stood. She inspected her work then turned to leave.

I turned to go as well, when suddenly I heard her footsteps stop completely. I turned to see her turning her head left and right. Had she heard me? Had she seen me? No, she ran back to center stage with a smile on her face. I leaned up against the wall, trying to get a better view, did she see something? What was she doing?

Suddenly I heard her start to hum, no she couldn't be...was she about to _sing_? This should be worse than Carlotta, if she lived in the Opera House as a _cleaning_ lady that surely meant she couldn't possibly possess any _real_ talent.

I waited to see this disaster when suddenly, she opened her mouth, and I was nearly knocked off my feet. I grabbed the wall to steady myself, she was an Angel. True, her voice was a bit rusty but it was so soft and pure. The lyrics were...wait, the lyrics.

The lyrics were original; she had written this song herself. She was speaking about somebody; I wish I had caught the first verse. Who was she talking about?

_"Wishing I could hear your voice again, knowing that I never would._

_Dreaming of you won't help me to do all that you dreamed I could._

_Passing bells and sculpted Angels, cold and monumental;_

_Seemed for you the wrong companions...you were warm and gentle."_

She stopped for a moment and I finally took a long breath after holding it for so long. This was beautiful; it actually brought tears to my eyes. She _felt_ music; it was in her heart and soul. Suddenly, the song seemed to change. Why, I don't know, but I could tell it had.

"_Too many years fighting back tears, why can't the past just die-?_

_Wishing you were somehow here again, knowing you already said good-bye._

_Try to forgive, teach me to live, give me the strength to try-!_

_No more memories, no more silent tears, no more gazing across the wasted years._

_Help me say good-bye, I never said...good-bye."_

She looked so sad, and she was. In the next moment she had fallen to her knees and was sobbing. For the first time in my life I wanted to comfort somebody, my feet nearly betrayed me and moved without my consent, but suddenly her sobs stopped, which in turn stopped my feet.

I saw her wipe her eyes, but she made no move to get up. She sat there staring at her hands for a long time. Not being able to control myself any longer I softly called, "Brava, Brava, bravissima."

Her reaction was not something I expected; she shot up from her spot like a bullet out of a gun and spun about the stage, searching for me. I held in a chuckle at her expression, and tried not to look surprised when she burst out, "Show yourself!"

Suddenly all words died in my mouth, she was standing directly in the light, every single feature of hers illuminated. She was barely facing me, but it was just enough to give me a beautiful view of her face and the emotions displayed there. Frustration and anger at not being able to locate me, fear from not knowing who had spoken to her, and a lingering sadness that was visible through her now pink tinted eyes.

I saw her take a long breath of air, and the realization that she was going to scream hit me. She can't damage her voice! Not entirely thinking it through, before she could go through with her plan, I softly but clearly replied, "I heard you, I am to your left, but I beg that you do not move from the spot that you are standing. The light hits you beautifully, and I can see your every detail clearly."

I slapped my hand across my mouth as soon as the words escaped; I hadn't meant to say that. _Why_ did I say that? I saw her turn around violently and look at me, I knew she could only see my silhouette but the fact she was _looking _at me made my heart pump even faster. I had no idea what her reaction would be; she could run, she could scream, or she could remark upon what I had just said. Her next words however, I did _not_ expect.

She laughed, "You have me at a disadvantage monsieur, you can see me but I cannot see you."

I'm glad she could not see me, for if she could she would have seen my shocked reaction, but I was able to keep my voice calm, "I intend to keep it that way...for now at least. I only wished to remark upon your marvelous singing, where did you learn to sing like that?"

She stared at me for a long moment, and I worried I had over stepped my bounds, I tried to make amends "I do not mean to pry, it was just simple curiosity, you _do_ have a marvelous voice after all."

I noticed her stare suddenly break and she shook her head, "I'm sorry monsieur, I didn't mean to hold my tongue, my head is clearly not with me at the moment. I learned to sing first from my mother when I was four, and then I furthered my studies with my father after she passed."

I tilted my head up in curiosity, "Where is your father now?"

She seemed to hold herself straighter, as if looking weak would be the death of her. Her answer was simple but it shocked me and caused me to berate myself, "He's dead. He died five years ago."

My head slowly fell in embarrassment, "Forgive me, I should not have asked."

She shrugged and released a soft sigh that was like a summer's breeze, "It is no great blow, it happened so long ago. As they say, 'time heals all wounds."

My expression hardened and I mumbled, "Not _all_ wounds."

She seemed to have caught my whisper and asked, "Sorry, what was that? I didn't hear you."

I quickly cleared my throat and asked, "As you yourself have told me, your father had passed a long time ago, so I am correct in saying your voice lessons have not been completed?"

She nodded, a beautiful blush appearing on her face, "That was the first time I have sung in two years. I am very out of practice, so forgive me if I was not my best."

Why was she apologizing? She sounded glorious, a bit out of practice but glorious all the same, "No need to apologize, you did not know I was here; but this brings me to my purpose of being here. I wish to continue your training and perfect your voice."

I couldn't believe what I had just said, did I even think that sentence through, or was I talking just so I could hear her response? I'd go with the latter.

I saw her take a step back and the fear returned to her voice, "What? I'm sorry if I seem rude monsieur, but I do not know you, and you do not know me. Why would you want to train somebody you have only just met?"

I smiled greatly at this, for once it pays to be the Opera Ghost, "Actually I _do_ know you, _Christine_."

At the mention of her name she took another step back. I scolded myself mentally, why would I say that? Only the Opera Ghost would know her name without her introducing herself. I don't want her to know I am the Opera Ghost; she'd never speak to me again. I need an alibi. What was the story she was talking about with the Giry girl yesterday?

I need that name, maybe she'll tell me. I smoothly asked, "I do not wish to scare you child, I have simply been watching over you. Surely you must know who I am. Who am I _Christine_?"

The way I said her name caused her to take another step back, I kept scaring her! Damn! She seemed even more nervous, but suddenly the fear and nervousness disappeared and a look of utter disbelief graced her face.

She shook her head stammering, "No, no, no. You're not my-no, I'm not even going to voice it, it's-it's too unbelievable!"

The name suddenly came to me, _Angel of Music_! I chuckled once again, "So, I take it you no longer believe in the Angel of Music, _Christine_?"

She gasped, and suddenly a whole miraculous sea of lies poured out of my mouth, "If you are wondering why I have taken so long to come, it is because I had to watch you, see if you were worthy of my tutelage. You have proven to be very kind hearted, and devoted to completing whatever task is asked of you. Your devotion is exactly what I need if I am to teach you, but in the end it is your choice."

A million thoughts were running through my head, most of that bloody sentence was a lie! Well, I had been watching her, I am the Opera Ghost after all, and she _is_ kind and devoted. I was debating between right and wrong when the phrase, 'Say yes!' screamed overtop of the other thoughts. Suddenly, that was the only thing I could concentrate on, her consent. If I could give her voice lessons it would just be the two of us, alone. Just the thought caused my excitement to sky rocket and I awaited her answer on baited breath.

Finally, she said, "Prove it. Prove to me that you are the Angel of Music."

"Pardon?" I asked, an edge coming to my voice._ Damn!_ I didn't think I would have to prove myself! If I didn't consent to her request it would only fuel her suspicion, and she would deny me. I had to find a way out of this.

She calmly replied, "You had a chance to evaluate me, am I not allowed the same? For all I know you could be lying."

I straightened up, grabbing onto the only inch I had for means of escape, "Angels do not lie."

"True," she said. "But a man _does_."

I flinched slightly, and I prayed she hadn't noticed it. After thinking it over for quite a bit I sighed, "It is quite fair. What would you have me do?"

She looked shocked at my agreeing to her evaluation, perhaps she was bluffing? Suddenly she pursed her lips together in thought, and then beamed. "Sing something."

My head tilted slightly to the side and I grinned like the Cheshire cat, this was going to be _too_ easy, "As you wish, _Christine_."

I swayed a bit to the rhythm I was imagining in my head then began,

"_Child of the wilderness, born into emptiness;_

_Learn to be lonely; learn to find your way in darkness._

_Who will be there for you-, comfort and care for you?_

_Learn to be lonely; learn to be your one companion._

_Never dreamed out in the world, there are arms to hold you;_

_You have always known-, your heart was on its own-!_

_So laugh- in your loneliness, child of the wilderness;_

_Learn to be lonely, learn how to love life that is lived alone._

_Learn to be lonely!_

_ Life can be lived, life can be loved...alone-."_

She wasn't moving; it looked as if she wasn't even breathing. I noticed a few tears escape her eyes and my fingers itched to brush them away, but I dared not move from my spot. She quickly wiped the tears away then said, "I believe you, please forgive me for doubting you."

I held my hand up, "Think nothing of it, you had every right to be suspicious. Now, since you know the truth, will you give me your consent to train you?"

She nodded her head vigorously, "Yes, oh yes, please."

My voice suddenly turned professional and I willed myself to stay calm, "Very well, meet me on the third floor after you are finished cleaning tomorrow. When you, and you alone, arrive I will show you where we will be meeting every day for practice henceforth."

"Yes, monsieur." She said politely as she curtsied.

I bowed gracefully, "Until then, _Christine_."

I disappeared into the shadows but did not leave. I saw a shiver of excitement run up her spine, which only caused me to grin wider. I watched as she turned from side to side then quickly ran to her room. I followed her example and returned to my home. For once in my miserable life, that night the demons of my past did not plague my dreams. Instead I dreamed of an Angel with brown curls, deep brown eyes, and a golden voice that would soon make all of Paris bow at her feet.

(One Week Later)

My dreams had only been a mere taste of the joy of training Christine. I will admit at the beginning it was difficult to get her to sing to a disembodied voice, for I decided not being in the same room with her was going to be the only way I could teach her. If we were to be face to face I wouldn't be able to stop myself from staring at her, not that I don't do that now, but she would constantly see it and that would be rude of me. Not to mention the mask.

Yes, this blasted mask would surely be my undoing; she would take one look at me and flee from the room as fast as she could. I couldn't let that happen, but perhaps in time, once we've known each other longer I can show her my real self. Until then, I'll have to be patient and be content with simply training her. Another one of my inventions that has finally come in handy was the two way mirror in the room where we practiced, I could see and hear her clearly, but she could only _hear_ me.

Our practice today ended quite late, and I could tell neither of us wanted to leave just yet, but I left the choice up to her. I waited for her to say something and after a few seconds of her simply looking at her hands she raised her gaze to the ceiling and called, "Angel?"

I smiled warmly, even though she couldn't see me and replied, "I'm here Christine."

She looked down again with a small blush then asked, "I know you said earlier that if you were to teach me I would have to trust you and do all that you asked of me, but I would like to ask, why is it that I could see your silhouette last night but now you will not show yourself to me?"

I was prepared for this question, even though it was another lie, and used my ventriloquism to whisper in her left ear, "Because Christine, I am an Angel and it is very hard to appear before you, eventually I will, but not yet."

I held in a devious laugh when I saw Christine gasp then turn to her left and listen to my explanation with rapt attention. She nodded her head then said, "Okay, well I'd better get to bed, I have a long day tomorrow."

"Why is that?" I asked, forgetting what the Opera was starting tomorrow.

Christine laughed then said, "Everybody will get their part for the production of _Hannibal_, which will premiere in two months. I get to be one of the ballerinas, so I have to start practicing."

I growled at this, "As delightful as it is to see you dancing on stage _you_ should be the one out there singing; not that tone deaf toad Carlotta."

Christine looked up in disbelief, "You think one day I could take Carlotta's place?"

I answered without any hesitation, "Yes I do, I think your voice would not only be perfect for the lead, but you could make all of Paris weep from simply singing a simple melody. A couple more months of training and you will be ready."

Christine smiled then sighed, "Thank you so much, I really do appreciate all that you are doing for me. I could never afford to have a normal person teach me, and I'm sure I wouldn't be as far along as I am now. Thank you, thank you _so_ much."

I smiled, but I sensed that there was some underlying pain in her tone. Trying not to over step my bounds I inquired, "Are you quite alright, Christine? You seem troubled."

Christine shook her head, "I'm sorry, I am fine. I think of the past sometimes and, well it leaves me...confused and upset I guess you could say."

I arched a brow, "Is it your father?"

She nodded slightly, "Yes and no. I don't think you will understand unless you know a few things about me, but it's a long story."

I smiled, "I have all eternity to listen to you Christine."

She laughed at that then began, "Well, when I was seven my mother died, apparently she was with child again and her body wasn't strong enough to carry it. The loss of my mother and a new child devastated my father, and he didn't make the smartest of choices with the money we were left with. If it wasn't for the small flat we inherited from my grandparents we would have been living on the streets."

My mind made a small connection but I tried to ignore it, it couldn't be the same Christine, it just couldn't be. She looked nothing like _that_ Christine did; even though she was shorter than me she was still _very_ tall, her facial structure was different, and she didn't have that quirk in her mouth from always smiling like the other Christine did.

Christine continued, "My father and I were very poor for a very long time, and I was afraid every day that we would starve to death from not earning enough money. Some days my father would have to lie and ask complete strangers for money, saying that I was sick and needed medicine. I hated it, but my father always told me that artists used lies to tell the truth and high society used them to cover the truth up."

I laughed, "Pure poetry, my dear."

Christine smiled, "I think you would have liked him. I miss him terribly...Ugh! I wish we hadn't gone into that damn alley that night."

Christine pounded her fist against the nearby vanity table, causing the mirror to shake. I was surprised and asked, "What happened Christine?"

She uncurled her fist then sighed, "We were attacked, there were five against two, and when my father had told me to run, I did. Maybe he would still be alive if..." She trailed off.

"What?" I asked, "If what?"

Christine wiped at her eyes furiously, "Maybe he would still be alive if _he_ was there to help us again."

My heart seized at this, please dear God, no. My mouth became dry and I had to swallow before I asked, "Who?

Christine took a breath then laughed shakily, "This is the part that you would need to understand. When I was twelve my father played his violin in the streets of Paris for money, we never made a lot but we made enough to get by. One night however, my father drew in a huge crowd and we earned an immense amount of money. People had noticed this and they attacked us, we would have been killed if it wasn't for-."

Christine stopped abruptly and I urged, "If it wasn't for who? Really Christine, you are quite the story teller, but the dramatic pauses are sure to kill your listeners."

Christine laughed at my jest then looked sad once again, "I don't even know who he was, that's why I stopped. He never told me his name, he probably found me annoying, but after so long I christened him my 'Black Angel.' I always called him Monsieur Black for short though; he saved my life. He saved my father's life as well, but when we needed him again...he wasn't there."

Her tone brought me to tears, this was that little girl I had rescued all those years ago now as a woman, who grieved for the loss of her father...and dare I hope, her Black Angel as well.

Christine wiped her watering eyes once more, "I held my father as the life drained out of him along with his blood. The woman,  
who I currently reside with, Madame Giry, was the one who found us in the alley. She bought my father some more time, enough time to give me a chance to say good-bye to him."

_Madame Giry?! _I felt like I was going to be sick; bile was rising to the back of my throat and the look on Christine's face made me feel like a dagger was being twisted into my heart. I had to leave. I tried to momentarily compose myself then gasped out, "Christine, I am very sorry. I am also sorry that I must go. _Now._"

Christine jolted then quickly called, "Wait, Angel! Why, I mean, where are you going?"

I was tripping over my words but was able to blurt out, "I'm terribly sorry Christine, but I _have_ to go. I will be here tomorrow at our usual time. Until then, Christine."

I heard Christine call for me once more before I was far down the tunnels and out of earshot of her golden voice.

I propelled myself across the lake as fast as I could, trying to make it across without having a nervous breakdown. God knows I didn't need to have another one of those.

I reached the shore at last, quickly tying the boat to the pole, and then bolting for my bedroom. For a moment I thought I would simply collapse on my bed, but as I neared it I was suddenly full of energy and began to pace.

My hands ran through my hair viciously and I couldn't stop thinking about what Christine had said, '_if _he _was there to help us again._'

I sat down at my desk exhausted; looking in one of the few mirrors I owned that ran from one side of my desk to the other, seeing my masked reflection staring back at me. I've always felt repulsion for my face, but never before have I felt such repulsion and abhorrence when looking at my masked face.

I removed my mask and threw it at the mirror. My mask hit with a loud crash and shattered the mirror. I couldn't see my face from the spider-like cracks on the remaining glass, but still my head fell into my hands and I wept.

'_If only _he_ was there to help us again.'_

Since there was nobody else here but me I didn't care to voice my thoughts. "I'm so sorry Christine. I'm so, so, _so_ sorry. If only you knew the truth, if only you knew that I was...that night I...no. If only you knew that I didn't recognize you...if only you knew that I thought your father was some stuck up nobleman...that I hated nobleman so much I chose not to..."

I trailed off as I imagined Christine as that little girl again, holding her father's dying hand, wondering why her Black Angel wasn't there to help her. I left them...she knew this, and I knew this. That didn't change anything though,_ I _knew I _was _there, so what excuse could I possibly have? What excuse could I possibly have had to stand there and...

My hands ran roughly through my hair again as guilt consumed me and I moaned, "I _am_ a monster."

**Aww, poor Erik. He feels guilty over...well I can't tell you ****_exactly_**** what just yet. But I will, don't worry. Sadly, I can no longer give you guys a sneak peek quiz for a snippet of the next chapter since I can only update on Friday's at my mom's office. Oh, and just so I don't get my head chewed off by ****_certain_**** readers of mine, I don't know if I'll be updating ****_every_**** Friday because I actually have a busy summer. I'll spare you the details and just say, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! 8D **

** Oh yeah, I can't decide which Erik I'm using so in your review take an extra five seconds to vote which one you want. Here are your choices,**

** Gerard Butler**

** Charles Dance**

** Ramin Karimloo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

My Angel was gone, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out why. He just...left. Realizing he wasn't going to come back I retreated back to my room, trying not to feel betrayed from finally opening up to him and him just leaving. I _never_ opened up to anybody about that, only Madame Giry and I knew what happened that night!

I fell onto the bed I claimed as my own, in the tiny room that I occupied. I didn't want to think about the past, I didn't want to think about anything at all, I just wanted to sleep. I slowed my breathing and tried to drift off.

But how could I drift off when something like _that_ had just happened to me? I got up out of bed, suddenly feeling full of energy and began to pace, trying to tire myself out. As I paced I wondered why my Angel left in such a hurry after I told him about my father's death. Maybe, since he was the Angel of Music, death bothered him?

I shook my head, no if _I_ could talk about my father's death and not even give all the bloody details that ran through my mind my Angel should have no problem listening to it. Maybe he was there; he is an Angel after all. Maybe he saw what happened?

I laughed at my own foolishness, he couldn't have been there. What possessed me to think that? Then again, did I really think of him as an Angel?

It seems so logical at the same time it is utterly _illogical_. An Angel who has come to give me voice lessons just because my deceased father asked him too? But, how else would you explain his voice being in the room with me, and no body to accompany it? And what a voice it is, for a man to be able to sing like he does...he would surely be famous and have better things to do than to teach me.

I was finally tired from pacing and crawled back into bed. I decided that thinking about my situation wasn't going to do anything but give me a headache. So, I would deal with any, to no problems that would arise when the time came.

**...**

The next morning we were given our roles for _Hannibal_, and I was shocked to find out I wasn't a background dancer. Yes, I was still a dancer, but during the slave girl's dance I was one of the six ballerinas that went to the front of the stage to represent the hardships of the slaves.

After receiving my part I ran to Madame Giry, with Meg in tow, and asked her how I had managed to acquire such a role.

Madame Giry simply shrugged, "Child, I do not know. The roles are picked out by _him_, and not even I have say over who shall do what in each production. My job is to simply teach the ones that were chosen."

I stood there in horror for a moment, "But Madame Giry, you know as well as I do that I am only a cleaning lady here. There are moves in this ballet that I have never even heard of, let alone attempted. Two months isn't hardly enough time for me to catch up with Meg and the rest, and...and..." My unease caused me to start hyperventilating.

Meg put a hand on my shoulder calmingly, "Christine, breathe. Just breathe; everything is going to be all right. Maman is a great dance instructor, and I'll be here to help you out along the way as well. Hey, look I dance right beside you!"

I looked down at the page, and sure enough right next to, 'Dancer four- Christine Daae' there read, 'Dancer three- Meg Giry.' This calmed me slightly, until another realization smacked me in the face like a ton of bricks. "Meg, all six dancers are spread across the stage. Our numbers place us in the middle which means...you and I share center stage!"

Meg looked at our numbers again and rubbed her temples, "That we do...so much for calming you down."

I returned my gaze to Madame Giry, "I cannot do this! Please let me switch roles with someone else, I'm sure there is another girl more deserving of this part than me."

Madame Giry sighed as she shook her head sternly, "Christine, you dance just fine any other time when you are in the background. Just because you will be center stage now does not mean that you should be afraid. You have been given a wonderful opportunity to step out of the shadows and into the light, embrace that opportunity. Do you know how many girls would love to have a break like this one? Trust me Christine, I will teach you everything you will need to know, and you must do this no matter what because you _are_ a performer. And as the old saying goes, 'the show must go on.'"

I let out a deep breath then muttered, "I will do my best."

Madame Giry smiled with a slight nod, "I'm sure you will."

She walked over to the other ballerinas who were waiting in a large group for our first lesson, while I stood there thinking of what I had just agreed to. Meg placed her hand on my arm once again, giving me a small smile and then leading me over to the awaiting group.

**...**

I watched as Christine almost reluctantly joined the other girls. Was she not happy that she was put up front? I've seen her dance a few times; she _is_ good so she should have nothing to worry about.

She will be happy once she starts learning the dance. I heard Madame Giry count out the steps and give the name of the next move, but suddenly she stopped. I looked down, only to see Christine quickly scramble back up to her feet. _She fell?_ What happened?

I continued to watch, she fell several more times before I realized it was the same move, the fouette. She has danced before, but she acts as though this is new. Why? I would have to discuss this with her during our lesson tonight.

**...**

After rehearsals I felt like I was going to drop. I had pushed myself to the limit today; moving faster than I have ever moved before, jumping higher than I ever have before and pushing myself to keep up with the other girls. The lesson today wasn't actually hard, but there was a fouette that I just couldn't get. I would fall each time, and everyone would stop and stare at me.

By the end of the day I was so tired of everybody staring at me that I decided that no matter what, no matter how much my bones or muscles protested I would not give in, I would not fall. The only thing that got me though was sore, if not pulled, muscles in my legs and bleeding feet.

I kept telling myself it would be worth it, that in a couple of weeks I would be just fine, and that my ongoing stamina would help me keep up with the other girls. Right now though, I wish I could give whoever decided this casting a piece of my mind.

I stumbled into my usual practice room, trying to shift my weight from foot to foot so the pain didn't have time to set in. I was hoping that my Angel would explain why he left in such a hurry yesterday, but that wasn't the case. We started like we always start practice and he acted as if nothing had happened at all.

I simply shrugged it off and gave everything I had left in me to practice. My range and clarity were improving beautifully from my lessons, and I was surprised at my own voice sometimes. I was really blessed to have been given such a great tutor.

After only half an hour my Angel stopped me, "Rest, Christine. You've done enough for one day."

I gave a small 'thank you' and practically _fell_ into the chair next to me. I still had my ballet slippers on from earlier, not having enough time to change out of them before my lesson. I bent down and swiftly untied the ribbons, when I pulled the shoes off I gave a small cry of pain and grabbed my feet immediately. They were bleeding in certain places and my toes felt like they were going to fall off.

Before I could do anything else my Angel asked, "Are you alright Christine?"

I rubbed my aching feet a bit more then replied, "My feet hurt, but it's not my first time doing this. My feet just have to take time to re-adjust to the shoes for the first couple of days, and then I'll be fine."

My Angel was silent for a moment then asked, "Is there something I can do to help?"

I was a little surprised that he would ask such a thing, but I simply shrugged once again with a mischievous grin on my face, "You could tell whoever casted this show that he is insane for me, since I can't do it without probably being fired."

My Angel seemed surprised, "Why is he insane?"

I laughed, "Casting _me_ as one of the six soloists, how is that _not_ insane? Not to mention I'm not a full time dancer, and I never wanted to dance in the first place."

My Angel's voice became much louder as he asked, "What?!"

I looked up curiously, "Of course, that is why I am not a full time dancer, I can be taught the moves but I do not _like_ to dance. The first time they asked me to dance was one really cold winter when people were getting sick and the Opera was taking a turn for the worst. They were out of options, so naturally they asked me."

My Angel remained silent so I continued, "Like a lot of things in my life it was dumb luck...that seems to have run out now. I'm going to have to perform center stage because there is nobody to take my place because we _still_ do not have the number of people we should, and I am going to make a fool of myself."

"Why?" My Angel asked, concern dripping from his voice, "I thought you said you would be fine in a couple of days."

I shrugged, "My feet will be, sure, but I am never going to get that fouette. I can't keep my balance long enough to complete it. In a couple of days I won't fall because of my feet, I'll fall because of my balance. Angel I...what am I going to do?"

I thought I had scared him off once again when I was only met with silence, but thankfully I was wrong. I heard him clear his throat then slowly say, "Why don't we keep up our lessons, work twice as hard, and I'll see what I can do. Until then, I suggest you get to bed and I will see you tomorrow Christine."

I jump out of the seat I was sitting in, giving a small wince from the action, quickly calling out, "Wait Angel, please wait!"

I give a sigh of relief when I hear him respond, "Yes, Christine?"

I quickly ask, "What do you mean, 'I'll see what I can do'? I don't understand."

I heard him chuckle lowly then reply, "I have friends in some high places that can help you with your situation, for now that's all you need to know. Good-bye."

"Wait," I call again, "Wait, Angel. What are you going to do? Wait!"

Too late, he's gone. I shake my head in frustration then rush to do as he says and get to bed. Why I let him tell me what to do sometimes and always ignore when he is obviously hiding something I'll never know, but if there is a possibility he can get me out of this I'll listen to him. He's kept all of his promises so far, and he has never lied to me, right?

**...**

Every time. Every time I try to ask him about it he changes the subject or asks me if I am giving him my all. Not once has it seemed like I'm going to get out of this, we have two weeks till opening night and I still can't perform the fouette. I'm terrified that this show is going to be a disaster; but each night my Angel will remind me that he has given his word that he will not fail, that I will _not_ make a fool of myself. I can only trust him and pray that I will not regret my decision.

On a lighter note though, somebody has started to play pranks on Carlotta. It is very strange, one day she is raving about the 'Opera Ghost' wanting her out of his Opera House and that she will not stand for these ridiculous threats, and the next she is screaming her lungs out because she found some of her favorite clothes destroyed and her throat spray bottles smashed to bits.

Apparently she pays a lot for her throat spray, but that was only the beginning. Things have been happening every other day, and they keep getting worse and worse as time progresses. I don't know why the 'Opera Ghost,' whoever he really is, is now so adamant about getting rid of Carlotta but it is the talk of the Corps de Ballet.

**...**

I would never tell him this, but I have given up hope in my Angel. I have given him my all for the past two months, and tonight is the opening night of _Hannibal_. It is not his fault though, he is an Angel, he cannot help that someone thought it would be a wise idea to put me up front. Besides, I only have to do a fouette twice, so it won't be perfect but I'll hold my head up high and not feel ashamed. I learned everything else perfectly and I am proud of that.

"Christine!"

I turn around to see Meg standing in the doorway in her similar dancer's costume. She pulls me away from the mirror I was giving myself a pep talk in front of rambling, "We are going to be late for our last rehearsal! I know you are worried about messing up but don't worry, I'll make a bigger fool out of myself if I have to but you _will_ be performing tonight. Did you hear about the recent prank on Carlotta? What am I saying, of course you have!"

Meg began to pull me down the metal staircase that we used as a short cut to get on stage in the lineup before Madame Giry ever noticed we were late. Meg giggled as we turned, "Can you believe someone actually put a frog in her hand bag? I heard her scream when she discovered it and I just about died laughing! I thought her regular singing was bad, her screaming sounds like she's trying to hit a high note like a decent Soprano!"

We both quickly jumped into place in our line up, beginning to stretch as Madame Giry walked by. We both gave sighs of relief when she didn't say anything to us, but remembering what Meg had said I scolded, "Meg! You shouldn't say things like that. What if Carlotta heard you?"

Meg waved me off, "Oh let her hear me. It's about time somebody told her to leave, I may be terrified of the Opera Ghost but at least he has the courage to stand up to her."

I sighed, "True, but little good it does. All it does is make her angry, and more determined to stay."

"What's wrong Christine, are you still worried about tonight," Meg asked as we began the slave girl's dance.

I shook my head, "No, I just have a lot on my mind."

Meg left it at that, and I was glad. I wanted to enjoy being silent in the background as long as I could before tonight. I don't know why, I just did. For some reason I felt that after tonight, everything would change. Is it weird to think that? That simply because I cannot do one ballet move I will ruin everything? Maybe I've been in the Opera House too long, I am being so overdramatic.

I noticed two men walk into the Opera with a third coming in shortly after them, I didn't pay attention though. I was going over the dance in my mind, but when I heard the name, 'Vicomte De Chagny' my head automatically snapped up. It was Raoul.

Things happened so fast after that, that my head spun. First, I was practicing my dance solo with the five others while Carlotta was singing, then she throws a tantrum because something went wrong.

I ignored her and continued to practice, trying to ignore Carlotta singing the beautiful aria that I had been practicing for months. The six of us just finished our dance when all of a sudden a back drop comes crashing down towards us.

Meg screams and we jump back, just missing the back drop...but Carlotta wasn't so lucky. She falls underneath it and starts screaming her head off for someone to get her up.

I hear Meg beside me stutter, "He's here, the Phantom of the Opera."

A new name, very clever Meg. I laughed a bit with Meg at Carlotta's flustered face as she got up. When she finally did get up however, she threw another tantrum and left. Well, this would be a funny story to tell my Angel. As I thought that, suddenly what my Angel had said to me months ago resurfaced in my mind, 'I'll see what I can do...I have friends in some high places that can help you...'

Why I thought of that I don't know, but suddenly I heard Madame Giry say, "Christine Daae could sing it, sir."

I look up shocked, _what_? The managers started to bicker back and forth with Madame Giry for a while but eventually I am being ushered to the center of the stage. Monsieur Reyer cues the orchestra to start, and the song '_Think of Me'_ begins to play. I begin to sing as if I'm in practice again, feeling lighter than air. I finish the piece and before I know it the new managers are rushing up to me and saying that I've got the part.

People are clapping and congratulating me as I look around dazed. A smile creeps up to my face as reality catches up with me. I won't have to dance tonight because...I am _singing_ tonight. I silently thank my Angel; someway, somehow, he did it.

**Hey everybody, sorry for the late update but hey better late than never! I'm still holding the pole for 'which Erik am I using?' in my reviews so if you haven't voted yet please vote in a review. Oh, and I should mention that if you want to do a mix of the Phantoms then that's fine as well. I also want to say sorry if Christine sounds a little angsty, I was watching a ****_Supernatural_** **marathon when I was typing and to make a long story short the episode where Sam jumps into the pit makes me upset. 8P Hey what are you going to do? Thank you for reading, please READ AND REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I practiced singing Elissa's part for the rest of rehearsals, and shocking both Meg and I, there was a new dancer who could take my place for tonight. Everything was perfect, I would play Elissa and my spot in the ballet was taken care of. It wasn't really that hard to learn Elissa's part anyway, since my Angel had been teaching me how to sing her part for the past two months. The more I think about it, what a strange coincidence that I was already being taught how to sing for Elissa, and a new dancer just so happens to show up a week or so before opening night. A dancer who has performed this dance before, no less.

With this bizarre coincidence, how do I know my Angel didn't do all of this himself? After all, he did say he had friends that could help me. What if...dare I even think it? What if the Phantom of the Opera has been purposely tormenting Carlotta so she would quit and I could replace her?

Fear suddenly gripped my heart, was the Phantom perhaps really a ghost like the tale says? If he is, did my Angel ask him to help me? I had to get this straightened out before I performed tonight.

While some were given two hours, I was given only an hour to myself before I had to report back for costume change and make-up. Wasting no time, I quickly rushed to what was now my dressing room, where I usually met my Angel for lessons. I prayed that for some reason he would be there this early.

I rushed in, shutting the door securely behind me before calling out, "Angel!...Angel!...Oh please, Angel hear me!"

Suddenly I felt his presence, and then I heard him. "I am here Christine, dear, whatever is the matter?"

He sounded breathless, as if he had ran all the way here, but I ignored that fact and continued, "Angel, thank goodness. I must speak with you."

He laughed a bit, "Well, I am here Christine, what is it?"

I thought about everything I wanted to ask him then slowly began to form my question as I stuttered, "I-I received the part of Elissa today...when Carlotta threw a tantrum and left, because of one of the Opera Ghost's 'pranks,' but you see-"

My Angel cut me off exclaiming, "That's wonderful Christine! You have wanted to sing on stage ever since I started to give you lessons!"

I sighed, "Yes, I know, but you see-"

Once again he cut me off, "And better yet, even if there will be a gap in the formation this means you won't have to dance tonight! Not to mention-"

This time I cut him off, "Angel! I am trying to ask you something very important! Something that will decide whether I perform tonight or not!"

This got his attention; he went silent, only saying, "Please continue."

I took a breath and started again, "You see, the Opera Ghost, or Phantom of the Opera as Meg has deemed him, has made Carlotta the target of his torment before; but it was never this...determined. He started to solely target her nearly two months ago, which is strange since that is around the time that everyone received their roles for the Opera, and you started teaching me the song 'Think of Me.'"

I stopped, realizing I was rambling then asked, "What I'm getting at is...you said that you had 'friends' that could help me with my situation?"

"Yes," My Angel answered, a little wary.

I steeled my resolve, pushing myself to continue, "Did you ask the Opera Ghost to get rid of her so I could take her place? I want the truth."

My Angel didn't respond right away, but when he did he asked in a wounded tone, "Why do you think I would do something like _that_?"

I clenched my teeth, "You're avoiding the question, I want an answer Angel."

He sighed, "No Christine."

"'No' what?" I asked, now terrified of the answer, "Are you refusing to answer?"

"No," my Angel said again. "No, I did not ask the Phantom to get rid of Carlotta just so you could take her place."

I sighed and visibly relaxed. My smile from earlier had returned full force, "Good. Thank you, Angel."

He seemed dazed as he reiterated, "Why? Why would you think I would do something like that?"

My breath caught in the back of my throat, after everything he's done for me I just ran in here and accused him of doing something so slimy and cut throat without a second thought. I shook my head desperately, "No, oh no. Angel I am sorry, please forgive me. I didn't mean to think so little of you, it was just..."

"Just what, Christine?" He asked.

Once again I had to push myself to continue, I am not going to lie, my Angel made me nervous. "It's just that you are so mysterious." I swallowed, afraid of the line I knew I was about to cross, "You say and do things that are so strange, and when I ask you to elaborate you either change the subject, ignore me completely...or you leave!"

My heart began to beat faster at the thought of my Angel leaving for good one day, he had become such an important part of my life in these few short months. I didn't really know what I was saying, but the memories of always turning the other cheek after every cold shoulder and harsh word he would say to me were causing words to uncontrollably spill out of my mouth.

My Angel remained silent, allowing me to continue, "I'm sorry I doubted you Angel, but these past couple of months you haven't given me any reason not to. You would push me harder and harder, which I am grateful for believe that, but there were times when I couldn't talk to you without you either ignoring me or getting angry and leaving. It was _awful_."

I was breathing heavily, and strangely I felt better, but once I finished everything became deathly silent in the room. I bit my lip, terrified of how my Angel would react.

I heard him sigh deeply, "I know Christine, and I am sorry as well. I know I was not the easiest teacher to listen to, and I know some nights you would go to bed crushed at my harsh words, but did it not make you stronger...more determined to stay?"

My eyes widened considerably at his words, "S-stay..._stay_?! You...did all of that so I wouldn't give up?"

My Angel chuckled, "My methods may not have been orthodox but they were similar to that of La Carlotta and the Opera ghost, effective no? The harder I pushed you and the more upset you became, the stronger your resolve became."

"Yes." I sputtered, "b-but Carlotta broke, she threw a fit and left! How did you know that _I_ wouldn't break?"

My Angel chuckled, "Because I know you, Christine. True, I did not know for _sure_ but thankfully you proved me right, that your resolve is stronger than steel. _That_ resolve is what is going to get you through tonight. Think about it, if we had continued our regular lessons, stayed loose and relaxed, would you have been ready to suddenly take center stage?"

All my breath seemed to have left me at once, leaving me to drop into a nearby chair as my right hand came up to clutch my head. After a moment of silence my head began to shake as I groaned, "You-...are an insane genius! I don't know how, but you planned for everything. I was _terrified_ to take center stage when I thought I was going to have to dance, but if I sing...now that is a whole different story."

"You are confident when you sing." My Angel said, pride pouring out of him, "I made sure you would be."

Out of all this craziness, I didn't know whether to cry or laugh at that moment; needless to say I went with the latter. My laughs came out in tiny bursts, and my Angel seemed to chuckle at my sudden laughter, but after listening to a few of them I realized I must have sounded out of my mind.

I abruptly stopped, shaking my head and standing up, "I have to say, I cannot wait for tonight now, but after this maddening day I also can't wait to sleep. I just feel...scatterbrained."

"You do deserve a break Christine, but not yet." My Angel said, "You have worked very hard, but these next few hours you will have to work even harder. Remember your lessons and I will be right there with you the whole time."

"Yes, Angel." I began to head for the door but stopped short, turning to mutter, "You know, you remind me of someone I use to know. Do you think..._maybe_ we met in another life?"

My Angel was silent, and then replied, "No, Christine. I am sure we have never met before...I would have remembered."

My face fell, and I was just grasping for the door handle when my Angel spoke in a low tone, "I will come for you after your performance tonight."

My hand stilled my whole body unable to move. _Did I hear him right?_ As if reading my mind he replied, "You heard me correct, Christine. Have you not been wanting to meet me...face-to-face?"

My mind struggled to form an answer, "Yes, no- I mean, yes of course, but...why _now_?"

"Why not now?" My Angel smoothly replied. I didn't respond, simply giving an unimpressed look towards the ceiling, not knowing where exactly my Angel was. I heard him give a defeated sigh, "There are also some things I wish to discuss with you, but..._after_ you perform. Not now."

I bit my lip for a moment then replied, "As you wish. Thank you Angel, I should be going now, wish me luck!"

I quickly dashed out of my dressing room, not realizing I had spent so much of my time talking to my Angel, and now only had ten minutes to grab something quick to eat.

**...**

"Good luck, Christine." I whispered, before I turned and stalked back down to my home. It felt more like home now than it did all those years ago. I don't know why, it just did, and I wasn't about to complain.

Before I realized it I had touched shore in my boat, tying the thing quickly to shore then pacing to my bedroom. I was ecstatic that my Christine was going to get to perform tonight, but I knew that after she did I was going to have to come clean. It wasn't fair, for either of us, but it had to be done, it wasn't right that I was keeping this from her.

That's what I kept telling myself at least, I didn't want to go through with it, not at all. Even now I was debating about actually doing it. What was I going to do, let her have her happiest of moments performing tonight, then drag her down into my world of darkness and confess everything to her, likely crushing her spirit that I have come to love so much? Not bloody likely!

Not to mention the lengths I went to in order to get rid of that damnable woman Carlotta. I did not think she would be that stubborn, oh well I slight miscalculation, I still came out the victor. It took a whole two months but she finally acquiesced to my demands. Patience is indeed a virtue. If Christine _ever _found out that was me though...she would loath me...even if my intentions were pure she would despise me. I dropped onto my bed, thinking about what I was going to do and all the possible outcomes.

My head fell into my hands, I have lied to Christine several times, including just now. How could I lie to her once again if I really care about her the way I do? I hate that I just lied to her about ever meeting her, I saw the disappointment on her face, but what was I supposed to say? 'Yes, Christine we have met before. I am Monsieur Black, the man that saved you and your father all those years ago. I lied to you and told you I was your Angel of Music because I loved your voice the moment I heard it, and I felt guilty because the night your father died I...'

I grabbed the glass of water next to my bed and threw it at the wall, loving the sound of the glass shattering and dropping to the floor. I remained motionless for a while after that, wanting to stop my blood from boiling before I destroyed anything else.

I wanted to say that I did not feel like an animal backed into a corner, but in all honesty, I did. Either way I looked at this, it was going to end badly, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I sighed as I stood to clean up the broken glass. The only thing I could do was hope that she could come to forgive me in time and understand things from my point of view. I threw the broken glass away and fled to my piano. I had a few good hours before the Opera and I needed a distraction so I wouldn't change my mind. I was going to tell Christine _everything_ no matter what, so diving into _Don Juan Triumphant_ I lost myself for hours.

**...**

The downside to being able to lose myself so easily to the music? I lost track of the time; I was late!

I didn't realize I had missed nearly half of the Opera until I heard my Christine start to sing, 'Think of Me.' I bolted up from my piano, dashing to the boat and rowing to the other side of the lake in record time.

I took all the secret passage ways that would allow me to still hear Christine, running as fast as my feet could carry me...until I heard it. One line in particular, nothing special, but my Angel put her absolute heart and soul into it. The notes rang out like a bell, causing me to stop dead in my tracks, unable to breathe or do anything else but listen.

The moment I heard applause I knew I couldn't stand and gawk forever if I wished to actually _see_ Christine finish her performance. I raced up the last set of stairs to my box when I noticed another man sitting there. _What is this?!_

He was talking to himself and my heart stopped when I heard him, "Can it be Christine?...Bravo!"

He bolted from his seat, fleeing the box. I debated whether I should follow him or stay for about a millisecond before shadowing him down the hallway. He was still talking out loud; but it benefited me greatly, so once again, I wasn't going to complain.

"Long ago...it seems _so_ long ago, how young and innocent we were." The Fop practically ran down the steps as he continued, "She may not remember me, but I remember her."

I stopped my pursuit as my blood ran cold. This arrogant aristocrat knew Christine from the past...how? My blood started to boil as I took a closer look at the boy; he had long blonde hair, hazel eyes, and slight stubble on his cheeks. I sneered; he was handsome and rich too. _Spoiled brat! What did he want with MY Christine?_

That thought caused me shake my head, when did I start calling her _my_ Christine? True, I felt responsible for her and I lov-

I heard Christine start again, shaking myself out of my thoughts and my own will to follow the boy further, I walked back to my box. I promised her I would watch her, and so I would. Christine was just finishing her song when I took a seat. Her voice finished on a high note, and the smile she gave as a rewarded for the audience's applause was radiant. That smile would stay with me forever, and it would make everything I was about to tell her worth it.

**Well, there is chapter 5. What? It's actually on time? Shocker! I finally had time to type, and look at that, ****_double chapter!_**** I thought it would be a nice thing to do since I skipped out on you guys two Fridays ago. All I ask is that you please review BOTH chapters, or sadly I won't be able to do something like this again. I also want to give a quick shout out to a guest, 'Dancer' since I could not reply to your review since you do not have an account. I'm glad you like my story and thank you for the compliment. Your vote has been tallied and all will be revealed soon enough. Tell me what you guys thought of:**

**1. Christine confronting her Angel?**

**2. Erik's inner tormoil about telling Christine everything?**

**3. Do you think Erik will really come clean?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello readers! Just a quick note, I posted TWO chapters so if you haven't read the other one yet do NOT read this one! Thank you to the people who reviewed the other chapter and I kindly ask that you review this one too. And, in the words of V, I hope you have enjoyed the comfort of the familiar and the tranquility of repetition because ****_this_**** is the chapter where everything changes. This is where I start throwing my own original ideas in. Happy reading!**

**Chapter 6 **

That was exhilarating! I have never heard applause like that before! People are patting me on the back, congratulating me, and...

My happiness dimmed a bit as I saw people celebrating around me. Everybody saw me, I even think I heard my Angel applaud for me, but there was one person that didn't hear me. Somebody whose opinion I valued above all others; my father. I haven't been to the Chapel in so long, I think it's time I go.

I quietly snuck away from the festivities and descended to the Chapel. No one seemed to follow me, and I was happy about that. My newfound 'fame' doesn't seem to have changed the fact that I am invisible when I want to be.

I smiled at my joke; I wouldn't have it any other way. I found a match and silently lit my father's candle. Bending my knees a bit and wrapping my arms around my chilled arms, I gazed at the only photograph I had of my father. It was a very old picture, taken right before he had met my mother. He was young, between eighteen and twenty years old, I never had a chance to ask him exactly how old.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, no reason to get upset now. I should be happy...I was happy. Happier than I have been in a long time, and I owed it all to my Angel. A thought struck me, I had forgotten to do something I should have done a very long time ago.

Holding my dress up slightly I bent down on my knees, smoothing my dress back out, and then putting my hands together in prayer. I thought about everything I wanted to say then began, "Our Lord who art in Heaven, I want to thank you for everything you have blessed me with. I still have a roof over my head, receive three meals a day, am in good health, and I am surrounded by people who care about me; and I them in return. Meg, Madame Giry, and most importantly...my Angel. That is what I want to thank you for the most. Whatever reason you had to send him to me was truly the most heavenly kindness you could have done me. He is...he is...more than I ever hoped for."

I stopped for a moment, and then chuckled, "Although he does have a temper at times, that is just one of his quirks. I still care about him very much, no matter how angry he gets...and at times it even strikes me as cute. Even though I haven't known him very long, I can't imagine my daily life now without him. I hope you will not think it greedy of me if I ask that you please continue to let him be by my side."

Biting my lip for a moment I began again, "Now I address solely my father. I hope you somehow heard me perform tonight. I wish I could hear what you thought of it, I hope I didn't disappoint you. All I can do is hope that each and every day my hard work makes you proud, that's all I want to do. Papa, I am so sorry that I couldn't save you that night so long ago. I miss you terribly...and I love you very much."

I stopped as my breath caught in my throat and my eyes began to sting with fresh tears. My hands broke apart and I covered my eyes, refusing to cry tonight. My tears were beginning to subside, even though my breathing remained a bit ragged, and I was about to flee when I heard a soft, deep voice. "Brava..."

I looked up, nobody was in the Chapel with me, but once again I heard it. It was a male voice, softly singing and caressing the very word, "Brava..."

I looked in front of me, the only candle now lit, my father's, seemed to flicker as the final word seemed to float from it, "Bravissima..."

All of my breath left me in one quick huff as a small smile crept its way onto my face. Not questioning it for a moment I simply nodded my head before standing, kissing my two fingers, and placing them on my father's picture. I let them linger there a moment longer before slowly sliding them off.

I turned to leave when I suddenly heard Meg's voice say, "Monsieur! Monsieur, you can't go in there!"

**...**

I followed Christine, expecting her join in the festivities for a while before immediately returning to her dressing room, but surprisingly she didn't. She ducked her head and seemed to pass through the crowd like a shadow, unnoticed.

She wandered silently into the Chapel. Strange, I don't think I have seen her in here before. What was she doing?

She lit a candle, upon further inspection I noticed it to be her father's, and smiled a dazzling smile once again as she clutched her chilled arms. I expected her to leave, but she surprised me for the second time that night. She got down on bended knee and clasped her hands together in prayer.

My jaw went slack as I heard her thank God for what little she had, but coming from her, it sounded as if she were a Queen who had everything she desired. It was shocking to say the least, to see her pray like this. I haven't prayed since...I actually can't remember the last time I prayed.

I heard Christine mention the people she cared for and when she finished off the list with, '...my Angel.' I nearly choked on my own tongue. She went on to thank God for sending me to her and that she hoped it wasn't greedy of her to ask for more time with me. She cares about me? She cares about _me_! I felt on top of the world, but in the next moment I felt like a knife was being twisted in my heart.

She was apologizing for not being able to save her father that night. I winced, my resolve to tell her the truth beginning to crumble, and she suddenly started to gasp for breath as she pressed her hands to her eyes. She was trying not to cry.

I looked up, speaking to God himself it seemed, whispering, "One more lie, but I swear no more. Just let her have this."

I softened my voice and used my ventriloquism to call out, "Brava..."

I saw Christine jump slightly and look about the room, searching for the voice she wouldn't find. Once again, throwing my voice in front of her, "Brava..."

Christine slowly turned her head towards the candle that was flickering in front of her. I made my voice like silk, nearly whispering, "Bravissima..."

Christine's smile and gasp of relief filled the room with a warmness that I could feel from the other side of the wall. Seeing her happy was enough to put me at ease, and moments like these were the moments I would remember in the hours to come.

Christine kissed her fingers then placed them on her father's photograph, letting them slowly slide off before turning to leave.

Suddenly I heard the Giry girl's voice call out, "Monsieur! Monsieur, you can't go in there!"

I looked to the entrance to see what imbecile would dare invade the Chapel without permission, when none other than the Vicomte De Chagny stood in the archway. I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. _Figures_.

I watched as he and Christine both stood very still while the Giry girl practically ran into the frozen Vicomte, trying to deter him from entering the Chapel.

"Sorry Christine, he said he saw you come down here and he had to talk to you. I tried to stop him but..." Rubbing her nose, the Giry girl trailed off as she looked between the two frozen people staring blankly at each other. Christine's mouth was slightly parted and the Vicomte's began to form a smile as he hesitantly whispered, "Christine...?"

Christine looked rakishly at the Vicomte before giving him a curious grin. The Vicomte cleared his throat then asked in a more chipper tone, "Little Lottie...?"

Christine smiled brighter than ever and threw herself into the Vicomte's awaiting arms as she all but screamed, "Raoul!"

The boy spun her around in the air as she laughed like a child. "It's been so long!"

"_Too_ long, Little Lottie!" The Vicomte replied, as he hugged her again and then put her at arm's length, "Look at you, all grown up and singing at the _Opera Populaire!_"

"Look at _you_," Christine laughed. "You're so much taller now, and I see you've grown your hair out. It suits you, oh Raoul I've missed you!"

"Wait a minute," the Giry girl interrupted. "You two _know_ each other?"

I have to admit I was just as shocked as the Giry girl, I realized that Christine was familiar with the Vicomte from the way he spoke earlier, but I didn't know she knew him so...well.

Christine laughed as she removed herself from the Vicomte's arms and blushed slightly, "Yes, well I never told even your mother, but Raoul and I met when I was younger and became the best of friends."

The Vicomte took ahold of Christine's hand and said, "We were far more than 'just friends' Christine; but seeing as we obviously cannot pick up where we left off without filling in the gap of so many years apart, I suggest you hurry and change and we shall go to supper together!"

I was seething! How dare this boy sashay in here and try to take this night away from me. This night was supposed to be just me and Christine! Tonight is about _us_!

Christine looked horrified as she stuttered, "I-I, uh, Raoul, I actually h-had plans to meet with my voice teacher. I had already agreed."

The boy slapped on a fake smile saying, "Well then by all means bring him along. The more the merrier!"

Christine grimaced and shook her head slightly, "I...I don't think he would wish to go Raoul."

The Vicomte waved it off, "Very well, it is his loss. _We_ are going nonetheless. I will go fetch my carriage. Get changed and I will meet you in the foyer in ten minutes, Little Lottie."

The boy escaped the Chapel without another word as Christine tried to call out to him, "No, Raoul-...Raoul, _wait_!"

Christine brought her hand up to her head and sighed as she released a frustrated laugh, "He never did listen to me, even as children.'

The Giry girl looked down the hall, "I can catch him if you want me to. What do you want to do?"

Christine was silent and my eyes widened considerably, she was _considering_ this?! Wasn't _she_ the one who has been asking to meet me, wasn't _she_ the one who had made plans with me first, and wasn't _she_ the one praying to that God of hers to keep me in her life? Just because some charming youth, that doesn't listen to her might I add, has arrived _I_ suddenly do not matter anymore? I'll remind her exactly who she wants to be with.

The Giry girl noticed her deep in thought, calling, "Christine...Christine_..."_

After her second interval I projected my voice to seductively whisper in Christine's left ear, "_Christine_..."

I saw Christine's concentration break and goose flesh appear on her arms before she replied, "I'm sorry Meg, could you please inform Ra- the Vicomte, that I will _not_ be joining him for supper."

The Giry girl smiled before tugging on Christine's arm giggling, "Come on, I'll smuggle you past everybody, then you can take the back way into your dressing room.

**...**

I couldn't believe Raoul had done that. Yes, I was thrilled to see him, but to nearly force me to cancel my previous engagement for his just made me angry. Why would I even consider accepting his proposal when my Angel had finally agreed to come to me? Was I losing my mind, I was so confused that I thought I heard my Angel call my name. Thankfully, that was enough to convince me what was right and what was wrong.

Meg had helped me past many of the crowds and celebrators until we were at one of the back entrances. I stopped Meg reassuring her, "I'll be fine the rest of the way, please go deliver my message to Raoul."

Meg nodded, "Will do, goodnight Christine."

I smiled, "Goodnight, Meg."

I watched Meg continue down the opposite hallway before going down my own. My excitement from earlier was renewed when I thought about finally meeting my Angel. I wondered what he looked like, especially the color of his eyes. As they say, 'the eyes are the windows to the soul.' It was so new, so exhilarating, that my pace began to pick up and I didn't notice a figure standing between my hallway and the adjacent until I collided with it.

I clutched my shoulder that rammed into the other person saying, "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you. I was just trying to-"

"Well, Miss Daae," came the slimy reply.

I forced myself not to groan or wince, saying, "Joseph Buquet. I'm sorry, but as much as I would like to stay and chat, I find that I must be going."

Buquet put his arm in front of me smiling, "I don't mean to keep you, I just wanted to tell ya that you sounded very pretty this evening."

I smiled politely, "Thank you, I-"

I cut off when Buquet suddenly placed his hand gently around my throat. I froze, whether from fear or something else I don't know. He ran his hand across my throat a few times before saying, "Funny, that such pretty sounds could come out of here with a little practice. I wonder..." Buquet leaned in a little closer as he finished in a gruff voice, "what else it could do with practice."

That's when my instincts kicked in, shaking his hand off my neck and when he tried to recapture it, biting his hand hard. He jumped away from me yelling, "Ow!"

I wiped my mouth off as I hissed, "Don't touch me! Leave me alone!"

Buquet shook his hand out, trying to relieve the pain more than likely, growling, "Why you little..."

He trailed off as he stared at me in a form of recognition. I felt uneasy as he stared at me the way he did, several emotions playing in his eyes. Surprise, fear, anger, and an emotion I chose not to recognize for fear of it.

Before he could gather his wits I quickly went around him and ran down the hallway towards my dressing room. I didn't stop running until I grabbed the handle of my dressing room door, practically throwing myself inside and twisting the key to lock the door behind me. I gasped and panted for breath as I held the key in a death grip.

For a moment Buquet reminded me of...no it couldn't be. I shook my head as I quickly went behind my changing screen to get out of my costume.

I came out a couple minutes later, in a white lace dressing gown, to find a black figure standing in the corner of the room next to my vanity table.

I gasped and went to scream but the figure moved so swiftly, successfully blowing out all the candles in the room, and placed one hand over my mouth while the other held me in place to where I couldn't move.

I struggled and thrashed about wildly, trying to escape the grasp of whoever managed to sneak into my room.

"Shh." The voice whispered in my ear, "Do not act so surprised, I told you I would come for you, did I not?"

**Yes, yes, yes I know. I'm evil for stopping there, but hey! I posted TWO chapters, that more than well makes up for it. As I said before, please review both chapters or I will not be tempted to do this again. I also wanted tell you guys to check out this story I found the other day, the first two chapters are already up and I have to say it looks like a promising story! 'The Phantom and the Rose' by bensara91513.**

**That's all I have to say so, tell me what you thought of:**

**1. Christine/Erik in the Chapel**

**2. Meeting Raoul**

**3. The incident with Buquet (XD)**

**4. Christine in her dressing room with the black shadow**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, quick note before we get this thing going. The winning Phantom was Ramin, so celebrate that real quick...Okay, everything will be Ramin!...except for the song in this chapter. It will be Gerard Butler, only because when I was writing that part I couldn't imagine Ramin's really strong and booming voice singing 'Music of the Night' when-...well you'll see. Gerard sings this song like a lullabye and it fits perfectly with what I did with it. So, every other word and song is Ramin besides that. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 7**

When I heard the shadow speak, for a moment I was too shocked to react. I stood there, staring into the shadow's eyes. They were fascinating; the deepest shade of amber I have ever seen in my life, and they seemed to glow like Hell's fire in the darkness. Only when I saw the two amber orbs blink did I finally snap out of my shock.

In returning to the present, I realized I was no longer a prisoner of the iron grip that was around me previously. Now, the arm that had encircled my body was resting on my upper arm, and its partner had descended from my mouth to rest oppisite of the other in the same fashion.

I released the pent up breath I didn't realize I was holding, whispering, "Angel...?"

"Yes." Was his simple reply.

In that one word I felt my whole body relax, sighing my relief. Almost immediately after, I pulled away from the figure, strangely missing the contact once I did. I rubbed my right temple asking, "Must you always scare me when we meet in person?"

My Angel chuckled grimly, "My nature dictates that I scare everybody. Please forgive me though, it was not my intention."

I nodded dumbly, only to realize that he could not see me. I tried to navigate my way about my room from memory, but I tripped over the sette, nearly falling face first. Thankfully, my Angel was ever vigilant, successfully catching me before I even had time to throw my hands out.

I laughed, albiet a bit nervously, saying, "Do you think you could light one of the candles you blew out? I can't see a thing."

My Angel slipped his hand around mine, replying, "Oh no, just leave them out. I can see quite well, and we are not staying here anyway. I have something I wish to show you."

I couldn't see my Angel in the dark, but I looked up to where I thought his head to be and asked, "What is it?"

My Angel left me for a moment before the room was suddenly illuminated with light; light that seemed to travel down a passageway that was certainly not in my room before. My Angel stood in the middle of the 'dooorway' to the passage, his silhouette the only thing I could make out besides his ever glowing eyes.

His right arm gestured to the passageway behind him, saying, "My home."

I stood in place, I didn't want to doubt him, but I was a little worried about journeying through this passageway that nobody but him seemed to know about. He must have sensed my unease, for he extended his hand to me, pleading, "I would never hurt you Christine. Please, trust me. I am your Angel of Music."

Once again I focused on his glowing amber eyes, the color matching the fire of the torches that were strung down the passage in the background. It all looked so surreal. The fire behind my Angel that shadowed every feature but the fire burning in his eyes, the fact that he was actually here, and the fact that I was going to trust him. I did trust him, and so, I willingly took his hand.

Once my hand was in his I felt his grip lock on mine. Not to the point of pain, but to the point where I knew he would not let go no matter what happened. It was a possessive, yet protective grip.

As we journeyed down the passageway every once in a while my Angel would throw his head over his left shoulder, making sure that I was still behind him, even though he was still clutching onto my hand. In those brief moments I began to study him. He had long midnight black hair, a strong jaw, and along with them being amber, he had hard, determined eyes.

I was so busy studying him that I did not notice that we had approached a lake. A lake? Where has he taken me? He didn't say a word, instead he released my hand, only to seize me gently by the waist and place me in a small boat.

He stood behind me and rowed the boat swiftly and smoothly across the lake. I gazed at my surroundings; carvings of strange creatures in stone that dipped under the water, candles all around, and a swirling mist that began to settle on the lake.

I noticed our destination up ahead and felt my jaw go slack. It was a home carved entirely out of the stone cave around us! I could see candelabras illuminating different rooms, and a few rooms that didn't have wooden doors seemed to have makeshift doors out of red velvet curtains. It was _beautiful_.

We touched shore in no time; but before I could turn around my Angel was already out of the boat, tying it to a nearby post. I rose from my seated position, quickly stepping out of the boat; my Angel recapturing my hand as soon as I did, and pulling me into another part of the cave that resembled a sitting room.

There were two burgundy chairs and a black settee facing each other and a fire place carved out of the stone. A roaring fire was going, and it warmed my body quickly after travelling through the cool air that was down here.

My Angel released my hand, standing next to one of the chairs, briskly saying, "Sit."

I did as I was told and watched as my Angel stood in front of the fire with his back to me. I was trying to read him; by the way he was holding his shoulders I could tell he was tense. I was trying to figure out why he would be when it suddenly dawned on me.

I bit my lip as I muttered, "I was right...you are only a man."

For some reason the phrase did not fill me with dread, if anything I was happier. Why, I had no idea, but since he clearly was a man I was going to learn everything I could about him. Especially since he seemed to know so much about me.

I heard him sigh, apparently not hearing my earlier comment, pleading, "For God's sake, speak! Do not just sit there!"

Words escaped me at the moment so I simply began to dance around the subject, seeing if I could provoke him enough to turn around so I could actually see him. Slight glimpses at his face were not enough. I steeled my resolve, replying, "You told me to sit."

I saw his shoulders tense even more growling, "Now I am telling you to speak. Speak!"

I looked down at my hands in my lap, hiding a smile as I asked, "What would you have me say?"

_That did it._

My Angel spun around screaming, "What are you, an automaton? Say what you want! Yell at me, scold me, speak kindly to me! I could give a damn! Just _say_ something!"

I stared at my Angel for a moment, taking in his appearance. He dressed like one of the Patrons at the Opera would dress. He wore a black vest with gold trimming, a white cravat, a black jacket, and black trousers. He looked like any other man with the exception of one thing, a stark white mask on the right side of his face.

I cocked my head to the side, remembering the last thing he said, "Why would I yell at you?"

He threw his hands up exasperated, speaking as if to a child, "Because I lied to you! I claimed to be the Angel of Music your father sent you so I could give you voice lessons! I was so desperate to mold your voice into perfection that I was willing to lie to you every day. I stood at the beginning of the passage we just went through, which is hidden behind your dressing room mirror, every day and taught you through the wall. That's why you should yell and berate me."

I ducked my head, trying to hide another smile, but this one he caught. He asked through gritted teeth, "Why are you smiling?"

I looked back up at him, "I know why I _should_ yell at you. I must confess that it was nice to hear you admit the truth, but my question was, 'why _would_ I yell at you?' Even though you lied to me, and I am angry about that, you never did anything untoward to me. You kept all of your promises, taught me how to sing properly, and became a friend to me. I would thank you for that. Thank you."

My Angel looked shocked and I simply smiled at him. After the shock faded he looked at me strangely and asked, "Why do you always look me in the eye?"

The question surprised me, but I immediately answered, "Because I am speaking to you. Would you rather I stare at the lake? It seems a bit rude, don't you think?"

The right corner of his mouth twitched upward in what I could only guess was a smile. He shook his head and brought his right hand up to his mask, but before he could speak I questioned, "If you don't mind my asking, how in the world did you get down here, or build all of this for that matter? I assume you built all of this, at least."

Once again he looked confused, "That's the first question you wish to ask after meeting me? Why not ask me who I am?"

I shrugged, replaying part of the speech I had long ago memorized, "Who? Who is but the form, following the function of what, and what you are is a man in a mask. So you see the paradox of asking _who_ you are when you obviously do not want people to know is ridiculous."

My Angel's jaw went slack for a moment then tightened; his eyes swiftly fled mine and fixated themselves on something on the floor. Feeling slightly guilty for possibly wounding his pride I bit my lip then continued, "However, if you have a name, I would very much like to know it."

**...**

Christine nearly reciting the speech I had first introduced myself with verbatim awed me and made me feel ashamed all at the same time. She not only seems to have forgiven me for lying to her, but somewhat understands why I did it. My jaw clenched in self-loathing, I wasn't worthy to be in her presence, let alone look at her. I quickly cast my gaze down to the stone floor beneath me.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Christine look at me curiously then down at her hands guiltily. She bit her lip then looked up at me again, requesting, "However, if you have a name, I would very much like to know it."

My eyes returned to her hopeful ones, simply saying, "Erik."

As soon as I said it my eyes returned to ground. I saw her rise from her seated position and turn her head to the side, looking confused. She cleared her throat asking, "Erik...?"

"Just Erik." I said quickly.

Christine began to walk towards me and I immediately tensed up, hoping that she wouldn't recognize me. We had both changed over the years, her more than I, but I hoped that it would be just enough.

She was close now. She looked me up and down quickly then questioned, "No surname whatsoever? No, possibly, given...or made up one?"

Fear suddenly seized me as I realized what she was thinking. I shrugged nonchalantly replying, "I've been on my own since the age of six, never being told my last name in the first place. So no, none that I can recollect."

Christine looked down dejected, simply saying a quiet 'oh' before sitting in one of the chairs closer to the fire. I placed my left arm on the mantle then rested my head against it. My gaze turned to the fire, hating that I had just lied to her after swearing that I never would again. I just...I didn't want her to hate her Monsieur Black.

Staring into the fire I sighed, deciding that if I didn't reveal everything to her now, I never would. I opened my mouth to speak when I heard a small growl come from Christine's stomach. I turned to see her grab her stomach and try to stop her laughing with a hand over her mouth, but to no avail.

"I'm sorry Erik," she said with a giggle, and I adored the way my name sounded coming from her lips. "I haven't eaten anything but an apple since breakfast."

I smiled, willing to avoid the inevitable catastrophe a little while longer. I walked over to where Christine sat, offering her my hands as I said, "I had a feeling you would be hungry, I picked up some things today that should take care of that boisterous stomach of yours."

**...**

Erik offered me his hands and pulled me out of my chair, smiling as he said, "I had a feeling you would be hungry, I picked up some things today that should take care of that boisterous stomach of yours."

I smiled and wondered what it could be when he took me into the kitchen portion of the cave. There were three small alcoves carved into the stone, one that resembled a sink with a stone ramp running slightly out from the wall. The other two alcoves looked to have ash in them, likely being where the food was cooked.

Erik pulled out a nearby chair next to a table in the corner of the room. I sat and watched as he pushed it in for me then went back over to one of the makeshift stoves. He lit a match and got a small fire going, then placed a frying pan on a grate that was over top of the fire.

Erik gathered a slice of bread and began spreading what appeared to be butter on both sides. He then proceeded to cut out a small hole in the center, and after doing so he placed the slice in the pan, letting it sizzle.

Next he seemed to open a portion of the stone wall, gathering an egg. I couldn't figure out what on earth he was making, but it was beginning to smell good. He cracked the egg and discarded its shell in a small bin.

Erik sprinkled salt and pepper onto the dish, then proceeded to watch the cooking food a moment longer before finding a spatula and flipping the slice of bread over.

Erik poked at the food with the spatula for a bit after that and then grabbed a plate from a close by rack. Finally happy with the outcome of the dish he scooped it from the pan, placed it on the plate, and then placed the plate in front of me.

I still didn't know what it was, and felt a little embarrassed to ask. Erik returned to the stove, blowing out the flame before saying, "It's called 'eggy in a basket.' Taste it, it's good. Be careful though, it is hot."

The name made me smile, but quickly blowing on it I picked it up and took a bite. _It was delicious!_ Erik smiled as he sat down, once again reading my mind, "I thought you would like it. It is quick to make and sticks with you."

"I love it, thank you Erik." I smiled at him as I took another bite.

Erik smiled back then abruptly stood again, "I'm sorry, would you like something to drink with that? Water? Tea perhaps?"

"Water sounds fine, thank you." I replied.

Erik quickly filled up a glass and returned it to me. I took a few sips before asking, "Aren't you going to eat as well?"

He shook his head as he returned to his seat, "No, I ate earlier."

"Oh." I said, feeling a little awkward. Erik looked as if he was trying not to stare at me, because every time I made eye contact with him he would look away.

I finished quickly and Erik took my plate and glass to the sink before we re-entered the sitting room. We sat in silence for a moment, but it was a comfortable silence as we listened to the fire crack and pop. I looked around the room and noticed something I hadn't before, a grand piano sitting in the corner.

I pointed at the piano asking, "You play the piano?"

Erik smiled and nodded, "Yes, I play many instruments actually. The piano I mainly use for composing."

I stared in disbelief, "You compose too?"

"Naturally," he said with proud smirk.

I laughed, "Well I shall add that to the list."

Erik looked at me curiously, "What list?"

I smiled, "Of the things my Angel can do. You are an excellent cook, singer, teacher, architect, and a very skilled musician."

Erik smiled as he walked over to me and kneeled next to me. He picked my hand up and opened my palm before seemingly pulling a rose out of thin air. My eyes widened as I smiled, "You're a magician as well! I should actually make a list of things you _can't_ do, it would be shorter."

I brought the flower up to my nose and inhaled its scent. It had a black ribbon tied around it and it smelled divine. Erik chuckled next to me, "That is but a small token of my gratitude. You sang beautifully tonight Christine, I could not have asked for a greater gift."

I grasped Erik's hand saying, "I could not have done it without your help. Thank you so much Erik."

My eyes drifted back over to the piano and Erik caught my gaze and asked, "Would you like me to play something for you?"

I beamed, "Oh Erik would you?"

Erik chuckled as he began to walk over to his piano, "Of course Christine, anything in particular?"

I thought about it for a moment as he took a seat then asked, "Perhaps I could hear something you have written? Please?"

Erik turned around to look at me, a devilish grin on his face, "As you wish."

**...**

I took my seat on the bench and when Christine asked, "Perhaps I could hear something you have written? Please?"

My heart soared. She wanted to hear something I had written! I had the perfect one in mind, and feeling confident I turned with a smile and nodded, "As you wish."

I played the intro then began to sing along with the piano,

"_Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation;_

_Darkness stirs, and wakes the imagination._

_Silently the senses, abandon their defenses._"

I could see Christine out of the corner of my eye, and she looked mesmerized. This was perfect. If I could keep her like this for the rest of the night I could put off telling her the truth until morning.

"_Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor._

_ Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender._

_ Turn your face away from the garish light of day._

_ Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light; _

_And listen to the music of the night._"

Christine's eyes began droop. This happened a couple of times before she stood and started to walk towards me. This time I didn't tense up, music always kept me calm. She pulled a nearby chair closer to the piano and sat beside me. I turned my head and started to sing directly to her, not needing to see the keys to know what I was playing. She looked beautiful tonight and I would rather miss a note than take my eyes off of her.

"_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams._

_Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before;_

_Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar._

_And you'll live, as you've never lived before._"

Christine stared wistfully at me, and I suddenly had an idea. I pulled my hands away from the piano, offering them to Christine as I sang the first line of the next verse, and then pulled her into a slow dance.

"_ Softly, deftly, music shall caress you._

_Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you._

_Open up your mind, let you fantasies unwind;_

_In this darkness that you know you cannot fight._

_The darkness of the music of the night._"

Christine pulled away with a blush, quickly gliding behind the black settee with a coy smile. So, she enjoyed a chase? I'll give her a chase. I let my voice build as we went about. We bobbed left and right a couple of times before I finally just jumped over the settee, Christine immediately trying to run once I had. I let my last word crescendo as I took the last three strides I needed to capture her, throwing my arms out and wrapping them around her shoulders and pulling her back towards me.

"_Let your mind start to journey through a strange new world._

_Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before._

_Let your soul take you where you long to be-._"

Christine giggled as I let a lull form in the music. I let go of her as she turned around to face me, wondering if there was more to the song. I brought my hands up to her neck and gave a small grin as I sang,

"_Only then...can you belong...to me._"

Christine blushed at my words, then a horrified look appeared on her face and she swiftly pulled back after my thumb grazed a tiny cut on her neck. I seethed, remembering what had happened to her on her way to meet me. I was only a second away from pun jabbing that bastard, but Christine escaped him before I could. Oh well, he'll get his later. Christine looked down in embarrassment, turning and trying to flee, but I lightly grabbed her wrist.

"_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication._

_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation._"

As I had begun the first line I slowly brought her hand to my chest, my heart beat directly under her palm. I hoped she understood that I would rather die than hurt her. I would never do anything like that revolting Buquet, my touch was _not_ his touch. And I would make sure _he _never touched her again.

"_Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in._

_To the power of the music, that I write._

_The power of the music of the night-._"

I had unintentionally pulled Christine even closer to me, and as I sang the last line our faces were mere inches apart. The space dwindled even further as I held the word 'night' out. My control broke when the note died on my lips and I claimed hers.

An electric shock immediately went through me, and I felt Christine jump slightly but immediately fall into the kiss. I didn't expect her to be so submissive, but yet again, I did not feel the need to complain one bit.

I had no idea how long the kiss had lasted; seconds, minutes, hours, days perhaps? Soon though, I was holding all of Christine's weight in my hands. She had fainted.

I smiled, probably a little _too_ proudly, and picked Christine up. She weighed less than a feather as I carried her to the room I had deemed hers. Christine's room had the luxury of a door and a curtain, in case she wanted to be left alone on occasion. The door being open I brushed past the curtain with my shoulder and carried her over to her bed.

I made sure she was comfortable before pulling a light blanket over her and lighting the small fireplace I had carved in her room. It tended to get even colder down here at night. I walked towards the red velvet curtain to leave before turning to look at her one more time.

"_You alone can make my soul take flight._

_Help me make the music of the...night-." _

I closed the curtain as the last note of my song ended. I returned to the sitting room and took a seat in the chair closest to the fire. I sighed, what in the world did I just do? I had kissed her! No warning, I just...she didn't pull away though.

That thought alone caused a smile to appear on my face. I leaned further back into the chair, my hand reaching up to touch my lips. Did she feel what I felt? Or was it just my oversensitive skin from lack of human contact?

I kept replaying everything over and over again, but the more I did, the angrier I became. Everything was perfect, except when I had grazed that cut of her neck, a cut Buquet's disgusting fingers had created. I think I needed to pay that man a visit, and what better time than the present?

Knowing Christine would probably sleep through the night from exhaustion, I grabbed my cape and left my home.

**...**

"Like yellow parchment is his skin. A great black hole serves as the nose that never grew. You must be always on your guard, or he might catch you, with his 'magical lasso'. _Grrr_!"

A chorus of ballet girls screamed as Buquet roared like a monster, cackling once he saw a few of them start to shake. Out of nowhere Madame Giry appeared, grabbing Buquet by the ear and tossing him into a chair before slowly saying, "Those who speak of what they know find too late that prudent silence is wise. Joseph Buquet, hold your tongue!"

There was a resonant _slap_, heard throughout the room before Madame Giry continued, "Do not speak of things you have not seen with your own eyes!"

Buquet glared and went to reach for Madame Giry but she swiftly turned on her heel and began to walk away. Buquet still reached for her, too drunk to realize she was already gone, and caused himself to teeter in his chair and then none too gracefully fall flat on his face.

The ballet girls began to laugh before Madame Giry ushered them out of the room and shot a final glare Buquet's way. I knew this was my chance, so silently creeping into the room I called out, "How pathetic, get up you swine."

Buquet jumped up from the floor and looked around the room in horror. Not being able to pinpoint where I was he simply stood in the center of the room. I chuckled darkly at this, "What, are you afraid of the Opera Ghost?"

Buquet sneered, quickly sobering up, "I'm not 'fraid of you, ya freak."

_That was the final straw_. I jumped out of my hiding spot and grabbed Buquet by his throat, hoisting him up as far as I could in the air, "Listen, and listen well, because I am not a fan of repeating myself. You will stay away from Christine Daae, understand? If you do not heed my warning I will take care of you myself."

Buquet chuckled the best he could, "Daae...is her last name...isn't it? So she _is_...that brat...from all those...years ago. And it seems...she still has her...loyal dog...protecting her."

I shook my head, "What are you blathering on about?"

I threw Buquet away from me, taking a step back to watch him gasp for breath on the floor. He looked up and gave me a sinister grin, "You should know, I was very close to Monsieur Daae...especially in his last moments. And oh, I remember his daughter. I wasn't as close to her as I wanted to be, but _you_ were the one who made sure of that, weren't you?"

My eyes widened slightly and all the hatred I was capable of settled in the pit of my stomach. I surged forward, trying to grab Buquet again but he dodged me rather quickly, mocking, "Oh, did I upset the almighty Opera Ghost? Speakin' of, have you told your little Daae pet the truth about what happened that night?"

I remained silent, waiting for the right moment to lash out and snap the monster's neck. Getting nothing but silence the swine actually figured out the truth, bursting out in laughter, "Ya haven't, I can tell by the look on yer face...or mask. Oh, wouldn't Miss Daae be disappointed in you if she knew?"

"Be quiet." I mumbled.

"Wouldn't she just _loathe_ you?" Buquet continued smugly.

"Silence!" I hissed.

Buquet kept going, ignoring my commands, "Wouldn't Miss Daae be shocked to know that you, her 'Dark Knight', actually helped random thieves kill-"

"Shut Up!" I screamed as I picked up a chair and threw it at him.

He barely had time to dodge the chair before I was on him. I went to wrap the Punjab around his throat when he suddenly had his hand between the rope and his neck. He quickly pulled it off and put distance between the two of us, a smug look appearing on his face as he said, "Your lil' toys won't work, my friend. I know your tricks."

I let go of my end of the rope, shoving my sleeves up as I advanced towards him growling, "Then I'll strangle the last breath out of you with my bare hands!"

Buquet laughed but backed up as he said, "H-how 'bout we make a deal?"

I stopped, my eyes narrowing, "I do not make deals with the Devil...but I am listening."

Buquet's mouth twitched up for a moment before his poker face returned. He began to leisurely walk around the room, shrugging, "I will leave the Daae girl alone for now, occasional pranks must continue though. Can't let the other Ballet rats go thinkin' she's special now can we? In return though, I want half of your monthly salary."

I sneered, "You're despicable Buquet, no deal. You leave Christine alone and you live, that is my one and _only _deal."

I spun on my heel to leave but stopped dead in my tracks when Buquet called, "Alright, then I'll just tell Miss Daae the truth about you. That you are as dirty and as slimy as I am."

I slowly turned back around, "You wouldn't."

Buquet shrugged, "What 'av I got to lose? I only stand to gain. It only takes five minutes to tell her the truth."

I snarled, "You would die before you would utter your first word."

Buquet shook his head, "You gonna kill me right in front of Miss Daae? Oh I wish you would, because that would just prove that I was telling the truth. My original offer still stands, what's it gonna be freak?"

My fists clenched, my jaw tightened, and I could have spit fire. Any other time this fool would have been dead by now, but he knew how to get to me, using Christine. I had hurt her so much already, I had to grin and bear it for her sake. I had to protect her, from Buquet and myself.

I sighed, "Deal."

Buquet smiled, "Deal. Pleasure doing business with you...again."

I practically ran out of there after that. I wanted to escape the evil of this world and be back in my world. A world where Christine is blissfully ignorant and sleeping peacefully.

**Hey guys, sorry for the late update, but that means I'll make up for it with a double chapter! Which is up now, and don't forget to review ****_both_**** chapters please. I hope you liked this chapter, please tell me in a review what you thought about,**

**1- Christine seeming to forgive Erik?**

**2- Erik cooking?**

**3- The change to 'Music of the Night' ? (could you also follow what was going on?) **

**4- The kiss?**

**5- Erik's neglecting to tell Christine everything?**

**6- Erik confronting Buquet? **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

I awoke the next morning with a sigh. I had slept soundly the whole night and snuggled back into my covers, not wanting to leave my soft bed just yet. Then the events of the night prior came flooding back, causing me to bolt up. I looked around me, I wasn't in my room.

I was sitting in a magnificent swan bed, with red satin sheets and plush bedding. There was a fire going in the fireplace, it was warm and I relished the heat. Suddenly I remembered exactly how I had 'fallen asleep' last night.

Erik kissed me. First he was singing and I kept leaning in closer, wanting to be nearer to him and then-...I blushed furiously, I could still feel that small tingle on my lips from his kiss. It was like a static shock, only instead of lasting for a brief moment it grew in intensity and heat. My heart had pounded so loud I remember fearing Erik could hear it and then all my breath left me at once and...I fainted.

I covered my face with my hands. _I had fainted! Why? _I removed my hands from my face and noticed the closed red curtain. Erik must have carried me in here afterwards so I could rest, he is so thoughtful. I wonder if he is up now.

Pulling the blankets back I slung my legs over the side of the bed and touched the stone floor. It was cold, but I continued to the curtain and pulled it back slightly, only to peek out. I saw Erik partially around the corner, he was in the kitchen. He was cooking breakfast, and once again something smelled delicious, the aroma hitting my nose in a quick burst.

Erik had turned his back to me, and suddenly I had a devious idea. I may not have been the best ballerina but I did learn how to move silently on my feet. I walked down a couple of stone steps, and then slowly made my way to the kitchen. Erik would move to the side to gather something occasionally and I would immediately stop, hoping he wouldn't turn around.

I was no more than five steps behind him now, holding my breath so I wouldn't make a single sound. I raised my hands as I continued the last couple of steps and was about to scare him when Erik suddenly asked, "Christine, what are you doing?"

I released the breath I had been holding and let my hands drop to my sides, huffing, "Nothing, nothing at all."

Erik chuckled, "Well, good morning to you too."

I smiled as I came to stand beside him, "Yes, good morning. What are you making?"

I tried to stand on my tiptoes to see but he blocked my view with his shoulder, replying, "Ah-ah, it is a surprise. Go sit down at the table and be patient."

I did as I was told, laughing, "Patience is a virtue I have no time for, especially when something smells that good."

"Merci, Mademoiselle." Erik commented as he motioned towards the table saying, "I made some tea for you; it should be cool enough by now."

I looked and there sat the lonely cup on the table. I wrapped my hands around it, blowing on the top and then taking a sip. It was still warm and tasted sweet, "It's very good, thank you Erik."

He nodded once saying, "You're welcome."

A couple minutes later Erik carried a plate over to me, sitting it in front of me, and knowing what it was this time I happily cried, "Crepes! Oh my gosh, I haven't had these since I was a little girl!"

Erik bowed his head, almost in sadness, before he started walking to the seat opposite of me whispering, "In that case, I hope you like them."

I took a bite a sighed happily. I looked to see that once again Erik was not eating. I swallowed then asked, "Have you already eaten?"

Erik looked up at me, pausing for brief moment before nodding then letting his head slump back down. I took another bite then swallowed it quickly, refusing to ignore the fact that there was something wrong. "Erik, is something the matter?"

Once again he looked up at me, looking tired, replying, "No, should there be?"

I shook my head, "No, it's just...you seem upset. You were happy when I walked in this morning and then you just became quiet. Did I say something wrong?"

"No, Christine." Erik said dully, "You have done nothing wrong."

I stopped eating and my hands clenched. I was hoping I wouldn't be the one to bring this up but I had to know, I had to ask, "Are you upset about what happened last night?"

I saw Erik flinch out of the corner of my eye, but I refused to look at him. If that was the reason I might burst into tears, that was my first kiss and if he regrets it then it is ruined for me as well.

Suddenly Erik was crouched in front of me at eye level, grasping my hands as he pleaded "No that is _not_ the reason! What happened, what I did, I-I...I'm sorry Christine."

Realization dawned on me, he thought that _I_ was upset about what he did. I squeezed his hands that were still holding mine, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before saying, "I am not upset with you Erik, I don't think I could be upset with you even if I tried. I especially do not want _you_ to be upset, so know that everything is fine."

Erik nodded his head before standing back up and giving me a lopsided grin, "I am alright. Finish your breakfast, sadly I must return you before you are late for rehearsal. You do not want to give the impression you have already become a diva like Carlotta after only one performance, eh?"

My eyes widened as I remembered that I indeed still had to rehearse today for tonight's performance. My eyes searched desperately but seeing no clock I begged, "What time is it?"

Erik laughed, "Do not worry, you still have an hour yet before you must be up there. Take your time."

"But Erik," I called. "I have nothing to change into! I can't go in there in my dressing gown!"

Once again Erik smiled, pointing to the room I had emerged from, "In the dresser you will find multiple dresses to choose from. Do not trouble yourself; I made sure you would have everything you would need."

I sighed, "Oh, thank you Erik."

"You are quite welcome." Erik bowed slightly, "You finish up and then get dressed, I will be playing until you are ready to leave."

I nodded and continued to eat my breakfast while Erik strode over to the piano and began to play Mozart.

**...**

Nearly forty-five minutes later I was back at the mirror, the entrance into my dressing room. Erik was about to open it when I turned to ask him, "Will I see you again tonight?...Or are you going to turn into an Angel again?"

Being as close as I was I could see his jaw clench, "I will never be an Angel, I will always be Erik. You will see me here again tonight, if you wish. Whenever you are ready I will be waiting."

I nodded once with a smile as he opened the mirror. I stepped out and gave a wave good-bye before opening the door then rushing to the stage for rehearsals.

**...**

Everything went well, just as it had the day before. I caught a lot more people smiling at me than what I was used to, but they were all supportive smiles left over from last night. I didn't have to worry nearly as much as I did yesterday, but I still worked hard to make sure I put every ounce of emotion I had into the music to make it come alive. When we had our two hour break Meg couldn't wait to tell me all about last night's events.

Apparently I had missed quite a bit. First, Meg had informed me of Raoul returning to my dressing room to try to once more convince me into going to dinner with him, but found me gone, even though no one had seen me emerge. Thankfully, Meg had told him that everybody was so busy celebrating that probably they hadn't noticed me.

The second thing she told me, which was by far the funniest, was that Buquet had been put into place by her mother with a sound smack for making up horrible stories about the opera ghost and scaring all of the ballerinas. Serves him right also for what he tried to do to me, 'what goes around comes around,' as my father would say.

The last thing Meg had informed me was that Buquet was looking for me, but wanted to keep it discreet, only telling her. When I asked her what for she said all he said was that he wanted to apologize, so I decided to take ten minutes of my time to go find the brute and listen to what he had to say.

Finding him backstage I approached him, when he saw me he motioned for me to follow him. I did, always keeping a good deal of space in between the two of us. He took me to the foyer next to the grand staircase. He looked around then seemed to relax a bit, "Good, we're alone."

As I said before, I made sure there was plenty of space in between us. I nodded slowly asking, "And why do we need to be alone?"

He sneered, "Because I don't need rumors about this being spread."

I snorted, "You are afraid of people knowing you are apologizing to me for how you acted when you were clearly off your rocker drunk?"

Buquet glared at me, "Come down off your high horse _Daae_, I was never gonna apologize. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be leaving you alone now that your dog has successfully bribed me and threatened my life if I don't."

My eyebrows came together in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

Buquet laughed, "Oh that's right, bless me. I forgot he keeps you in the dark on _everything_."

"He?" I asked a little worried now.

"The Opera Ghost!" Buquet growled, "Who else would I be talking about?"

I rubbed my right temple with my hand as I begged, "Buquet, please not another one of your ghost stories, if the Opera Ghost really _did_ attack you, you must have imagined it, because he isn't real."

"He is real!" Buquet said, taking a step forward, "I know you know him, you saw him last night. You've known him your whole bloody life, he's your 'black Angel' or whatever the hell it is you call him. He wears that white mask like he's hiding something, it's cuz he is!"

I was about to walk away when Buquet mentioned the mask and the name. I froze in place and looked back at him. "How do you know that name?"

"I do because I was there when you named him." Buquet spat, "The one that got away?"

At his words my eyes widened and I nearly screamed as I took a step back. "You're the man that...I knew it was you last night, you sick-"

"Save the pleasantries Daae, I know what I did." Buquet rolled his eyes, "Times were tough, still are. Anyway, why do you think I am telling you this?"

I shrugged, "Why?"

Buquet gave a smile that would rival the Devil's, "I know several things about your Phantom that you don't."

I glared at him, "I'm listening."

**...**

He is a dead man. I specifically told Buquet to stay away from Christine, and when I come to check on rehearsals I hear the ballerinas gossiping that Buquet had ambushed Christine in the foyer and tried to kiss her, and more than likely other perverse things. Thankfully Christine had fought back, as Buquet now sported a red mark across his face, a few tiny scratches from her nails, and he was limping on his right leg.

If it wasn't so close to tonight's performance I would go check on Christine, but she was getting into costume at the moment. It seems I would have to deal with Buquet in the meantime.

I searched the catwalks first, but he wasn't there. Strange, where would he be if not in the catwalks?

The performance had started and that's when I spotted him, he was standing on the staircase that led up to the catwalks, he seemed to be staring at something...or someone. I saw Christine singing the opening for 'Hannibal comes', and Buquet couldn't take his eyes off of her.

I felt my blood boil, normally I wasn't a jealous man, but after everything Buquet has done he deserved what was coming to him. I don't know why I didn't just kill him last night; after everything he's done, a man like him deserves to die. It must have been the fear of Christine finding out and hating me that clouded my judgment, I wasn't about to make the same mistake twice. This ends now.

Buquet apparently hadn't seen me and casually began to climb up to the catwalks. When he stopped in the middle of a walk to lower a prop I jumped down from my hiding spot.

His eyes widened and he took off in the other direction. I pursued, but I realized he had enough distance to keep a game of round and round going, which would get old quickly. I decided to wait until he was in the center of one of the walks and shook the ropes. He tripped and I advanced, throwing my lasso around his neck, making sure his hands were not in the way and then pulled tightly.

He began to gasp and I pulled even tighter as he thrashed about wildly, trying to get away. He turned, his eyes immediately locked on the stage and the people below. Then he did something I wasn't expecting, he laughed. I was confused by this but ignored it and pulled as tight as I could on the rope, waiting for the fool to pass out. I saw the light begin to fade from his eyes, but before it was extinguished completely he looked me in the eyes then threw all of his weight to the right, causing his body to fall off the walk.

I grasped the rope tightly trying to stop him, but the damage was done, the audience's screams and gasps attested to that. Hearing shouts from the two fools who now owned my Theatre to cut him down gave me no choice but to flee, hearing footsteps quickly coming up the stairs I dropped the rope.

The curtains had closed while the two fools attempted to calm the audience, claiming that it was merely an accident. My eyes searched the crowd relentlessly for Christine but when I found her, I honestly wished I hadn't. She was standing alone off to the side, while people were screaming and running past her she was looking directly up at me. There were tears in her eyes and as soon as she realized I was looking at her she ran.

**...**

He was right. I looked up and saw Erik, just standing there after he had _killed _someone, that someone being Buquet. Suddenly I saw his eyes search the crowd and land on me. I couldn't take it, I ran; I ran for all I was worth, quickly discarding my headpiece and big attachable skirt backstage. Now I was only in the long dress and make up.

Everyone that wasn't there previously headed for the stage, trying to help anyway they could...or more than likely trying to see if it really _was _Buquet and not a dummy. I fled though; I didn't want to be surrounded by people right now. I climbed the stairs and ladders as fast as my feet would carry me, heading up to the roof.

I burst through the door and the chilled air hit me full force, causing me to take a gasping breath and let it out in a shudder. I walked over to the edge and fell to my knees, my arms rested on the stone ledge and my head lay on top of them as I began to sob. I remembered the conversation Buquet and I had earlier perfectly, and I hated him for it. For him telling me the truth...and not Erik.

_ "Well, you understand that he is the Phantom right? Really think about that, let it sink in." Buquet emphasized._

_ I didn't have to think about it, I understood. Erik did it all; Erik was the one who made me one of the six solo ballerinas in the first place, he knew about my Angel of Music because he heard me talk about it with Meg, he heard me sing because he was skulking around the theatre, and Erik _did_ force Carlotta to leave so I could take her place. He lied to me._

_ Probably seeing my expression Buquet nodded, "You got it. Too bad that's not the worst of it."_

_ I felt like I was going to be sick, "What do you mean that's not the worst of it?"_

_ Buquet shook his head, "I normally wouldn't betray another robber but in this case I think I can make an exception. You remember the night your father died, don't you?"_

_ I glared, "Of course I do, but what does that have to do with Er- the Phantom? I already know you were there the first time...I suspect you were there the second time as well."_

_ "Yes I was, and I'm gettin' to that," Buquet said. "You see the five of us met in an alley one night, hearing that some rich man was returning to his old home. Thinking he was going to get one over on one of the rich nobles the Phantom joined in. He took to the rooftop and signaled us when the noble was in place, and then we attacked. Your father had that blasted gun however, and that became a problem when he was going to fire it at one of us. If I remember correctly, the Phantom was the one who jumped from the rooftop, grappled for the gun with you father, and then-...fired it."_

_ I felt my legs give out for a moment and I caught myself on the railing. This couldn't be true; Erik wouldn't do something like that, "You're lying."_

_ Buquet shrugged, "Hey, if you don't believe me that's your problem. I'm only tellin' you the truth, even though the same couldn't be said for your Phantom."_

_ I ran my hands through my hair furiously; I was actually starting to believe him! I shook my head, he couldn't _possibly_ be telling the truth, something just didn't seem right about this. I squared my shoulders and demanded, "I want proof, if you think I am just going to take your word for this you are wrong."_

_ Buquet bit his lip then nodded, "You'll get it, don't you worry. He told me that if I told you this he would kill me. This is actually an experiment for me, seeing if he is all empty threats or if he really means business. If he is serious then there is your proof, he has no other reason to kill me, or if he doesn't have the guts, hurt me right?"_

_ I nodded then asked, "You were there the night my father died?"_

_ Buquet nodded, adding, "Searched for you later on, even told the Phantom if he brought you back he'd get the biggest cut of the money we stole, but nobody found ya. Guess you came here, huh? Small world."_

_ My hands clenched into fists, and then I quickly looked around me and took the steps I needed till I was directly in front of Buquet. I didn't think about what I was doing I just exploded, hitting Buquet as hard as I could until my hands started to ache, and ending my revenge with a kick to his knee._

_ Buquet didn't even move, he just braced himself against my blows and then crumpled to the floor after my kick. My quick burst of furry left me panting for breath and I huffed out, "That...was for my father. If you _are_ lying...and the Phantom doesn't get you...I hope you _drop dead!_"_

He wasn't lying; Erik really must have killed my father. My tears suddenly stopped, and my sadness turned to rage. My father trusted him!_ I _trusted him! _Twice_!

What a fool I was! Did I really think that it was all just coincidence? Coincidence that I would meet another masked man, coincidence that the Opera Ghost tormented Carlotta until she left and I didn't have to dance, coincidence that every time I brought up my father or Monsieur Black to Erik he changed the subject or...he _left_!

That's why he left after I told him about my father's death! He's known that it was _my_ father he killed for months, and he always left because of his guilt! Suddenly things made sense; the constant apologizing seemingly over nothing or the sudden mood swings like this morning...

I covered my mouth as another realization hit me, making my stomach wretch. _He kissed me._ After knowing who I was he still kissed me! He still gave me lessons, he still made me laugh, and he still made me _feel_ something for him! After everything he has done to me he made me _care_ about him!

My tears started to flow once again, and my hands were shaking from the pain and rage I felt...or was it from the cold? I wanted to scream! I wanted to say every angry word I could think of to Erik, I wanted to let him know exactly what I thought of him and make him feel as much pain as I felt now!

Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped up and backed away from the person, I couldn't see who it was for my tears so I quickly wiped my eyes. After clearing my vision I saw it was Raoul.

He was holding his hands up, showing he meant no harm. He lowered his hands slowly after he saw that I recognized him mumbling, "Meg said I might find you up here. Are you alright? You're crying; were you that close to Buquet?"

I snorted, "Close to that-that...barbarian? No."

Raoul look confused, "Then what is wrong?"

I wasn't about to tell Raoul the whole story, I could barely think about it without breaking down, but I said the truest thing I could to pacify him, "I'm scared."

Raoul immediately grabbed me and held me close as I cried on his shoulder. It was true, I was scared because I didn't know what to do. I cared about Erik, but I wanted to wash my hands of him and never see him again. He lived under the Opera House though, under my only home. Not to mention he was capable of murder, I couldn't break all my ties with him so easily, not that it was going to be easy to begin with.

Suddenly I felt Raoul pull me away until I was looking up at him. He wiped a tear from my cheek with his thumb saying, "Christine, I promise you, I won't let anything or anyone hurt you. You're safe."

I shook my head and averted my eyes, "No, no I'm not. I do not know what to do, and you cannot protect me all the time. I wouldn't want you to get hurt either, just because of me, I'm not worth it."

After I said that Raoul grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him, when I did he crushed his lips to mine and pulled me closer. My eyes widened and my body stiffened, to say I was surprised was an understatement but he pulled away soon saying, "You _are_ worth it Christine, I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid because I love you."

_Love?! He must be joking!_ I pulled away and noticed that I was trembling from the cold, causing me to stutter out, "J-just a m-minute now. Y-you what?"

Raoul shrugged out of his jacket, wrapping it around me but keeping ahold of the lapels before saying, "I love you Christine Daae. I always have...ever since we were children."

I looked away from him. It felt great to be close to him right now because I wanted someone to hold me and tell me everything was going to be alright, and Raoul was always there for me in the past, but knowing that he loved me made me feel horrible. I knew I wasn't in love with him, and if I was honest with myself I knew his arms were not the ones I wanted around me right now.

That thought alone caused tears to spring to my eyes, I wanted something I could never ever have again, and the worst part was that it was by my own choice. I faced Raoul again, embracing him fiercely as he said, "I do not know if you love me or not, but I do not care, I just wanted you to know that _I _love _you_, and no matter what I am not going to let anything happen to you."

Raoul kissed me again, a chaste kiss this time. I didn't say anything and Raoul made a childish face at me, which broke my resolve and caused me to laugh. He laughed as well and grasped my hand saying, "Now there's my Christine, smiling not crying."

I laughed again and Raoul sighed, "Now _that_ is music to my ears, speaking of which, they are probably looking for you. After your show, tonight will you have dinner with me?"

I nodded with a smile but Raoul put his hand to his ear saying, "What? I didn't quite catch that."

He picked me up by my waist and spun me around as I burst into a fit of giggles, laughing, "Yes! Yes, okay? Put me down Raoul!"

Raoul did as I said as I continued to laugh, mock bowing as he said, "As you wish milady. May I escort you back inside before you freeze?"

I smiled and curtsied, "Yes, you may."

Raoul took my hand as we practically ran back inside laughing. I was looking forward to having dinner with him this time; things seemed lighter between the two of us now. No more difference of classes, no more formalities, we were kids again.

When we were close to the stage Raoul released my hand saying, "I must return to my seat. I'll see you after your performance, break a leg."

As soon as Raoul left Madame Giry found me, fixing my costume and ushering me back to the stage.

**...**

I only had one song left, 'Think of Me.' I started the aria just as I had the night before, but something was different. My voice was different, I sounded...hollow. I was singing every note correctly but it wasn't bright like last night. I ignored it, thinking it must have been the adrenaline that made me remember it differently.

I had just finished the phrase, '_There will never be a day when I won't think of you,_' when I heard something snap and the ceiling began to shake. I looked up and the chandelier suddenly began to fall, and it was falling towards the stage.

I backed up as fast as I could but the chandelier was faster. I looked to Box 5, seeing Raoul's horrified face, and I closed my eyes against the crushing pain I would soon feel.

I never felt that crushing pain though, I felt like I was floating...no, not floating. I was falling.

**Well that was...yeah I'm just going to come out and say it, I hated writing this chapter with a passion. I already know this was not my best chapter and I really struggled with the dialogue but it's passable and I hope you guys like it. I think what made it hard to write was the fact that I am a MAJOR Raoul hater so...yeah. This chapter was necessary though, I'm just happy it's done. Back to Erik now! The next chapter will be the big confrontation with Erik I'm sure everyone is dying to see, and I am excited about writing. Once again, sorry about the late update, but hey double chapter! I actually think that it turned out better this way. Please review BOTH chapters if you haven't already and tell me what you thought of,**

**1- Christine waking up in Erik's home?**

**2- Buquet telling Christine the truth?**

**3-** **Erik going after Buquet for 'ambushing Christine'?**

**4- Christine's thoughts on the rooftop?**

**5- Raoul comforting/confessing to Christine?**

**6- The Chandelier?**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, once again thank you all for your lovely reviews. They always make me smile and some give me very good ideas. I do want to clear up one thing before getting this chapter started though, many people commented about the chandelier being dropped early. You guys might not know this but in the original Broadway version (like Ramin's) the chandelier actually drops after the 'All I ask of you' scene, so I'm actually up to par with everything. And ironically I am using Ramin as my Phantom so that's even better! Now, this first scene will be in Erik's POV of the last chapter, but I tried to make it brief so we could get on with the story. I'm going to wrap this up now, happy reading! Please READ AND REVIEW!**

**Chapter 9**

I cursed as I saw Christine flee. She must have seen the whole thing, she probably thinks-...dammit! I ran after her, practically shadowing her every step, and it surprised me that she went to the roof. Why the roof? I should probably be happy about that, I can talk to her without her running; she has nowhere to run to up here.

Christine dropped to the ground, placing her hands and head on the ledge as deep sobs began to wrack her small frame. What she was crying about exactly I did not know, but I could guess. She was feeling one of the worst things a person could feel, _betrayal_.

Her body language was practically screaming what she was thinking and feeling. Her body was curled inward, as if shielding herself from a painful blow; so she is on her guard and probably having a battle in her mind about what she has just seen. Trying to make sense of it more than likely, but her body was also trembling, so obviously she was scared. And who could blame her?

I sighed as I hid in the shadows of one of the statues closest to Christine, then suddenly her sobs stopped all together and her head lifted. I was afraid she had heard me but when she did not move I stole a glance at her face, and what I saw shocked me. She was absolutely furious. The flames in her eyes could have burned me with a single look and her hands were so tightly curled into fists that her knuckles were white.

It seemed for a moment as if she were going to rise and storm back into the Opera house, but then she rocked back on her heels and covered her mouth with a gasp. Was she going to be sick? No, she was grazing her lips with her fingertips, forcing me to wonder if perhaps she was thinking of last night's kiss. A broken look appeared on her face, which soon crumbled back into a look of rage with betrayal interlaced.

I was so focused on Christine that I didn't notice another person join us on the roof, this person being Raoul De Chagny. Christine jumped back like an animal backed into a corner, wiping at her eyes furiously before seeing it was the boy and relaxing.

He gave her a sad smile saying, "Meg said I might find you up here. Are you alright? You're crying; were you that close to Buquet?"

Christine snorted, "Close to that-that...barbarian? No."

The boy look confused, "Then what is wrong?"

Christine was silent for a long moment before shuddering against the cold and whispering, "I'm scared."

It all went downhill from there. The foolish boy seemed to think this was his chance, holding her close and swearing that he would protect her. Protect her? From what _Monsieur_, the only thing that posed a threat to her is dead now.

Christine seemed to rebuff his attempts until...he _kissed_ her. Then once he did he confessed that he loved her. At that moment I could have jumped out and killed the whelp on the spot, but Christine seemed to be as horrified about the idea as I was, leaping out of his arms as if he had burned her.

Unfortunately the Fop just wouldn't give up, still playing the hero and giving her his coat as she shivered, telling her that he has always loved her.

Christine looked away, deep in thought as tears began to spring to her eyes once again. Suddenly she threw her arms around the Vicomte, who offered her his shoulder and let her cry freely. Whispering that he loved her and that he didn't care if it was unrequited, which I could assure him it _was_.

I suddenly became very uneasy, if it _was_ so unrequited then why was my Christine crying on another man's shoulder, accepting chase kisses and letting him hold her? My conscience decided to cut in and whisper, _because you are the reason she's crying and you know it. Any love she had for you is long gone now._

I shook my head to clear my thoughts and when I did I heard Christine laugh. It disturbed me that the fool could actually make her smile after everything, but it also calmed me to hear the sound of his Christine laughing.

_HIS Christine?!_ This man _clearly_ had a death wish! My hands balled into fists and I had to keep reminding myself that Christine was there so I wouldn't do what I _desperately_ wanted to do.

He asked Christine to dinner, but I did not hear her reply, apparently she had and the Vicomte teased that he hadn't heard her either, picking her up and spinning her around as she squealed, "Yes! Yes, okay? Put me down Raoul!"

They soon went inside and left me seething in the bitter cold. I started to pace back and forth as I replayed what I had seen and heard, I couldn't believe Christine had just thrown herself into that boys arms! After everything I have done for her!

I wanted to lash out, to destroy something, but there were only stone statues at my disposal and I would not destroy art. I took deep breaths of the cold night air and calmed myself before my anger got the best of me.

I walked over to the stone ledge, sitting down and leaning my back against a nearby statue. I sat there and I thought about what I was going to do. Thinking of the boy's confession, his invitation to dinner, and Christine performing directly beneath me. Maybe I could steal her away after her performance; she did have to return to her dressing room to change if she were going to go out with the boy. I chuckled at my own ludicrous suggestion, what an idea!

I froze then; an idea. 'An idea does not bleed, it cannot feel pain...and above all it _does not _love. It cannot be loved in return either.' I suddenly felt my rage leave me all at once, that is what I am, an idea. It was high time I remembered that and forgot about these 'feelings' I had for Christine. They were more than likely remorse and guilt over what I had done, a debt I felt I owed her. Well, Buquet was dead and Christine had a man who loved her more than anything in the world in her life. By my calculations, that debt has been paid in full.

I sighed, rising from my seat and heading for the door. It had started to snow and I was not going to freeze to death out here. I opened the door then headed back into the Opera house, and hearing Christine begin the 'Think of Me' aria I realized how long I was actually out there.

I was in the room that connected one of my secret passageways to the roof, the room was petite and had a few small pipes that ran along the ceiling and a metal chain that connected many ropes together. I never paid much attention to it before, I knew it served a purpose but never using it I figured its purpose mustn't be that important.

I found the seam in the wall that served as the door to the secret passage, and I was about to open it when I heard Christine sing the same line from the previous night that had stopped my heart. The line, that held such meaning to not only the plot of the Opera but to me as well, was now hollow.

This caused something in me to snap, my previous anger returning with a vengeance. I had spent months training Christine, making her voice perfect, and now her emotions were _gone_! The one thing that could not be taught, the one thing she always possessed on her own, her light! She should be full of emotion at the moment; she has her boy _and_ her safety! What more could she want?

I paced in a small circle for a moment before I exploded, pounding my fists against the wall as hard as I could. I felt the reverberations throughout the wall, and a second later I heard something crack. My anger flushed out of me and fear replaced it, what was that? It sounded like wood, and it was slowly splintering further on the other side of the wall.

I backed away from the wall, as if it were going to attack me, and heard a rattle behind me. The metal chain was shaking slightly and the ropes were starting to strain to keep everything in one place.

I suddenly realized what these important ropes and pipes were for; the chandelier! The pipes contained the gas for the lights and the ropes and chain anchored it to the ceiling. One rope started to unravel and looked as if it would soon snap completely, propelling me to get a certain soprano off the stage before it did, because without its support the chandelier would surely plummet.

I flung the door to the passage open and ran through my tunnels without letting my eyes adjust to the pitch black, expertly maneuvering around the corners and through the descending narrow stone. Suddenly I heard a snap and felt the ceiling above me tremble; another moment and I heard the screams of the people in the theatre. Thankfully I was exactly where I needed to be.

I climbed the wooden alcove steps and pulled the trap door above me open, seeing Christine standing there as the chandelier began to descend. She began to stumble backwards towards the trap door, but not knowing her safety was so close suddenly froze an inch from it, giving up.

Well I was _not_ going to let her give up like that, so I quickly jumped up onto the stage and grabbed Christine around the waist as she braced herself to be crushed and flung us backwards through the trap door.

The drop was nearly seven feet, and holding Christine tightly I landed on my back with a thud, knocking the wind out of me. I had no time to register this though, in my haste I had no time to close the trap door and as the chandelier crashed glass shards began to fall through the opening. I quickly flipped over, putting my elbows above Christine's head so my body would cover her, and arched my arms back to cover my own head.

Everything became deathly quiet after that, and slowly raising my head I noticed two metal curves of the chandelier barring the opening and only exit of the trap door. I guess I won't be returning Christine that way.

I looked back down at Christine who was unconscious underneath me. In what small light remained I saw that she had no cuts or markings of any kind on her and only had a few shards of glass lodged in her chocolate curls.

I grabbed a close by lantern I kept hidden for emergencies then lit it to give us some much needed light. I placed it beside Christine as I moved to stand, dropping back to my knees when my right shoulder gave a throb of pain.

"I must have landed on it wrong," I mused as I forced myself to stand. I climbed to the opening of the trap door then slammed it shut, and a moment after I did I heard loud footsteps galloping across the stage, back and forth as if searching for something.

_Could that be the boy looking for Christine?_ I looked back down at Christine who lay sprawled out on the dirt floor unconscious; if it _was_ her boy he could wait to have her back until morning. He was going to be able to see her the rest of his life, I deserved at least one more night with her after saving her life.

Seeing as Christine had no intentions of waking any time soon, I ignored the pain in my shoulder and picked her up. I chose the quickest tunnel and carried her to the lake before carefully placing her in the boat.

I rowed with determination even though my shoulder protested and I did not stop until we reached shore. Christine was still unconscious and I began to worry, had she possibly hit her head on something?

I carried Christine to her room then laid her down on her bed, and realized the disarray her dress was in. I decided to change her out of it, not worried about decency in this case, she had undergarments on and had no business wearing a dress that was ripped and covered in dirt from the fall.

Making quick work of changing her, not wanting her to suddenly wake and find herself without proper clothing on, I began to pick the glass shards out of her hair. There were very few, but I combed through it several times just to make sure. I couldn't believe I had come so close to losing her, and once again it was my fault. Damn my temper!

Noticing her dirt smudged face I left her for a moment to gather a wet cloth and a cup of water. When I returned I sat down on the bed next to her, pulling her over to me and then placing her head on my knee, carefully washing her temple and wiping her face clean.

**...**

I remember the chandelier falling, and then I began to fall as well, but I do not remember anything besides falling. I was awake, and I felt somebody cradle my head as a cool cloth ran across my forehead. I hummed my delight at the cool sensation and accidently let the whispered name, 'Erik' escape my lips.

When I did the cloth was removed and someone sat me up, pushing a glass of water to my lips. I took a few sips, recovering my senses completely before lightly pushing it away. Once the glass was sat on a nearby table I heard a voice I knew all too well whisper, "Christine?"

My eyes shot open and I stared up into Erik's amber eyes. I felt my heart stop in that moment but once it started again I pushed Erik away from me and flipped to the other side of the bed yelling, "Stay away from me!"

Erik stood from the bed as well, keeping his voice monotone as he asked, "Are you alright?"

I was terrified, but all the rage I felt from earlier was slowly starting to return. I didn't answer but simply glared at him as we stood on two opposite sides of the bed. Erik sighed and said, "Christine, I need to know if you feel dizzy or nauseous. You were unconscious for a very long time and I fear when you fell through the trap door that you hit your head."

"My head is fine," I gritted out. I took my eyes off of Erik for a moment and looked around me, I was back in the room Erik put me in after I fainted the night before. Erik took a step forward to come over to my side and my head snapped backed to him, causing him to freeze.

I took a breath and was about to demand he take me back when he said, "Christine, I know you do not trust me at the moment but please listen to me. You have to know _why_ I did what I did."

"I already know!" I shouted, "Buquet already told me before he died that you were going to come after him...and _why_. You two were quite close, I'm not surprised though, you're _exactly_ alike."

I saw Erik's hands clench into fists, spitting, "I am _nothing_ like him! Christine, you must understand that yes, I was a part of the team of thugs that killed your father, but I tried-"

My stomach churned and I gasped, "You admit it? You actually admit that you murdered him! You're sick, twisted- you're evil! You-you...I trusted you!"

I ran from the room, hearing Erik call my name as I headed for lake with every intention of stealing the boat, but I only made it to the sitting room before he was right behind me. I did what I did the night before and placed the black settee in between us as Erik pleaded, "Christine, when I realized it was your father that they killed I felt horrible, you can't imagine the guilt I felt-"

"No, I can't." I cried, "Just like you can't imagine the pain _I_ felt! Everything was perfect, we were happy! We weren't starving every day, we weren't in rags anymore, and for once I had friends. You took that from me, you killed my father and for what? Just so you could satisfy yourself by 'killing off some noble' and earning a few francs?"

"No," he said. "I didn't kill your father, I-"

I shook my head as my voice rose, "You liar!"

"I am _not_ lying!" Erik hissed, "I did not kill your father! I didn't! I never even saw his face until-"

"Shut up!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, causing him to flinch, "I don't want to hear any more of your lies! You've been lying to me since day one, _Angel_."

Erik's jaw clenched at the term and for a moment he looked ashamed. _Good_. I wasn't going to stop there though, "I even told you I was that little girl, and _still_ you kept silent! When were you going to tell me, _were_ you going to tell me?"

Erik pivoted from one foot to the other for a moment in silence. I gave him another few seconds before growling, "Answer me!"

"I was." Erik said in a hushed tone, "But when I brought you here I decided against it, and after we kissed I vowed I never would."

I slammed my hand against the settee as tears started to flow again, "Never speak of that again! Better yet, never speak to me again."

"You will _not_ tell me what I can and cannot do," Erik seethed. "If you want to try and deny that it happened go ahead, but I know you wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss you. Deny _that_ if you can!"

"I do deny it! I kissed a man I thought cared about me, not a murderer who couldn't tell the truth to save his life."

Erik jumped over the settee like the night before, grabbing ahold of my wrists and holding on tight enough to where no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get loose, but not too tight to where it would leave marks. "You think I don't care about you? If I didn't care about you I would have left you up on that stage to die! Especially after your little rendezvous on the roof with the Vicomte! Do you suppose _he_ really cares about you? You must, because you let him kiss you twice!"

My eyes narrowed and I was about to remark about him following me when I decided to use that to my advantage, "You're jealous? Because I kissed Raoul?"

His eyes grew dark, "I could care less about what you do, you could marry that damn Vicomte for all I care! All I'm asking for you to do is listen to me for five minutes."

"No," I snapped. I knew that if I listened to what he had to say I would be wrapped right back around his finger. I wasn't going to let that happen again, no matter how badly my heart wanted to listen.

I renewed my attempts to break free, much to Erik's annoyance. He held me tight snarling, "Be still, will you?"

I refused but then I heard Erik give a dark chuckle, "You know, if I was half as evil as you believe I am, you wouldn't have a choice in the matter if I wanted to kiss you say...right now."

I froze in that moment, now afraid if he was trying to make a point or if he was actually going to do it. My fear disappeared and my rage returned when he laughed, "Finally she's still! Though of course you only stopped because you're afraid of what I will do."

I let out an aggravated huff as I jerked my arms once more, yelling, "I hate you! Why can't you just leave me alone?"

I saw Erik's whole body stiffen and after realizing what I said I slowly looked up to meet his eyes, they were a mixture of hurt and anger. Which one he was going to show depended on what I did next, so I did not struggle, I just stood there.

Erik closed his eyes for a moment before saying, "You don't mean that."

I kept my voice level as I pushed my shoulders back saying, "You killed my father, of course I do."

Before I knew what was happening Erik grabbed both sides of my head and pulled our faces as close together as they could be without them touching. We were both silent as my breathing became rapid and his became deep. His eyes were no longer amber, they were burning yellow flames.

"You don't hate me. You are just upset because you swallowed whatever half-truth Buquet gave you as if it were a fine wine. If you will just listen I could clear everything up and you wouldn't have to pretend that you'd rather see me dead in a ditch than holding you."

When I realized he was just staring in my eyes, that he wasn't going to do anything to me, I did something I would soon regret. Steeling my voice I demanded, "Let me go."

Erik scowled, "Not until you agree to be calm and listen to what I have to say."

My hands being free I did something my father taught me when I was younger as self-defense. I raised my hands, my thumbs pushing into my 'enemy's' eyes and my fingers on the side of their head to push them away from me. Erik let out a cry of pain as he jumped back in such a flurry I was thrown off balance slightly when he released me.

I heard something hard hit the floor between Erik's cry of pain and growl of frustration. Erik had not heard it, because if he had he would not have looked up. His mask was on the floor and before I could warn him he removed his hands from his eyes growling, "Why did you-"

Erik stopped abruptly at my dumbstruck expression, wondering what could be making me react in such a way. My mouth was slightly agape and my left hand unconsciously rose to touch the left side of my face. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

Erik's face was handsome on his left side, as I knew it was, but his right side looked as if he had been in an accident; in some places the skin was so thin it was almost non-existent. It was twisted and puckered together, and in one place I could actually see his skull. For a moment I forgot what he had done and wanted nothing more than to run over to him and make sure he was alright.

However, my unconscious slip up stopped any comforting action I was about to give. Erik mirrored my action and when he came in contact with his rough skin instead of smooth porcelain I saw him change. Everything about him became rigid and both sides of his face formed into a look of pure rage as he said, "Christine, go to your room and lock the door."

I didn't move and as he advanced towards me he bellowed, "_Now_!"

I jumped at the echoing command and ran to the room he said was mine. I bolted the door and soon I heard things crashing and Erik's melodic voice yelling things I never imagined he would say in my wildest dreams. What had I done? I'd seen his face, I took his mask off.

He would never forgive me for this.

His tirade went on for hours and occasionally I heard my name in the mix. It was never cursed or shunned, it was simply an unhappy moan, sometimes accompanied with a 'why' or 'I'm sorry.'

Late into the night the crashing, shouting, and moans ended. I waited a little longer and quietly emerged from my room. I looked around at the damaged house; chairs were tipped over, glass was all over the floor, and one of the red curtains was shredded. I looked for the man who had done this, but when I didn't see him I called out, "Erik?"

I did this a couple of times before finding him in the sitting room, sprawled out on the black settee. His left hand was hanging over the edge while his right hand rested over his chest, tightly clutching his white porcelain mask. I slowly walked over to him and when I was a few feet away I called out louder, "Erik?"

He didn't move, and his breathing was heavy. He had given every ounce of his energy to his rage and looked ragged and tired. I had to leave, afraid that seeing me would set him into another rage. I was about to turn and leave when I realized something I hadn't earlier, Erik had protected me. He made sure I was safe before he destroyed everything.

I came close to Erik, studying the deformed side of his face before slowly caressing it then leaning down and kissing his forehead. When he didn't wake I moved to his ear and whispered, "Thank you for protecting me...but I can't stay. Good-bye, Monsieur Black."

I returned to my room to write a quick note, which I left on my bed, then grabbed my shoes and climbed into the boat. I rowed across the lake and hit shore within twenty minutes, and remembering the path Erik took me last time I was soon at my mirror. I slid it to the side, stepping out, then replacing it.

I thought about changing and climbing into my own bed but I realized I couldn't do that. I needed to get out of the Opera for a while, and surely the theatre would be closed while they repaired the stage from the chandelier.

I didn't have anywhere to go though; well I had one, but do I dare? I have no choice, I must.

Grabbing a cloak I left the Opera and headed for the house I visited many a time, and hoped that I would still be welcome there.

**...**

I walked up the pathway after nearly half an hour from leaving the Opera, and coming to the door I knocked bravely, hoping someone was awake. I heard shuffling footsteps from inside and suddenly the door opened.

The person who opened the door looked shocked, exclaiming, "Christine! Good God, what happened to you? Where have you been?"

I gave a sad smile, "I'm sorry to bother you, I just didn't know where else to go."

The person quickly ushered me in saying, "No, no not at all. Come inside quickly, I'll get you some tea. You look shaken."

I smiled, close to tears at my friend's generosity, "Thank you, Raoul."

**...*Hiding from readers*...Well, that is chapter 9. I will request all readers to put whatever rage they have in a review and ask/beg that they NOT kill me because then I wouldn't be able to write a happy ending. A BIG welcome to my new reader 'Peque Saltamontes' and a big thanks to 'Toriana' for reviewing and giving me the 'fine wine' reference. Speaking of references, did anybody catch the POTO book reference I threw in there? Tell me what you guys thought of,**

**1-Erik's POV**

**2- How the chandelier actually fell?**

**3- Christine waking up?**

**4- The fight?**

**5- The unmasking?**

**6- (Nervous laugh) The end of this chapter...? **


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_I found myself once again roaming the streets of Paris. I felt as if I was meant to be out again, as if I was expected to be somewhere. I was anxious, jittery even, though I could not imagine what I was expecting. Nothing spectacular has happened in these dark and dreary streets since I found that violinist and his daughter, and just because yesterday was my twenty-first birthday did not mean something good was going to happen to me. _

_ I smirked, thinking of Gustave and his daughter. Monsieur Lefevere was surprised but not displeased at my discovery of Gustave, and Monsieur Baudin was only too happy to have Gustave sign with him. Christine and Gustave moved away within a month afterwards though, in which time I kept an eye on them, making sure nothing went amiss before they received their happy ending. I do miss them, but I hear they are doing very well; although the stage name Baudin chose for Gustave is utterly ridiculous. It has something to do with where he's from or his last name, but for the life of me I cannot remember. The Dynamic Dolson...no. The Dutch Duo...no that's not it either. I walked the streets frustrated, I decided to leave it be, sure that I would never remember. _

_ A commotion pulled me away from my thoughts. Five men were arguing in an alley, and wondering what they were up to, I stepped forward. One man, the leader by the looks of him, was drawing something in the dirt and speaking of an attack. I looked at the other four, I had never seen any of them before, but there was something about the leader that I recognized._

_ As I thought that, every head suddenly turned to me, and I stood my ground as the man closest to me looked me up and down. After the analysis he turned to the leader saying, "Jo, this guy in on it too or what? The guy we're after ain't gonna have enough money on him to split it six ways, and I don't like the looks of him." _

_'Jo' looked up from his dirt design and glanced at me as if he was going to tell me to leave but suddenly stopped, a wicked gleam appearing in his eye as he said, "Cool it Jacque, we need an eye up on the roof to signal us when the target's in position, do you want your revenge or not?"_

_ This piqued my interest, "Revenge?"_

_ Jo nodded, "Ya see, Jacque here was begging for money awhile back and this noble ended up doin' that to his face."_

_ I took another glance at Jacque, his nose was crooked with a scar across the top and he also had several small scars across his forehead. I nodded but questioned, "A _noble_ did that to him?"_

_ Jo waved it off, "Inadvertently, he had his guard dog attack him."_

_ I nodded, feeling anger rising in me as I imagined the rich man ordering a lacky to beat the poor man asking for money. I crouched down with the guys saying, "I don't want any money; I'm in."_

_ Jo looked at Jacque with a smirk saying, "I had a feelin' you would be." He kept the smirk on his face then addressed the group, "Now, this...Phantom here will be on the roof, and when he sees the noble step right in the center here he will signal us, just a wave or somethin', and then we will attack. Now, only kill if ya have to, we just wanna rob him and ruff him up a bit."_

_ Everyone nodded and I headed for the rooftops when Jo suddenly grabbed my arm saying, "Now, this noble will be comin' through here any minute now. You'll know it's him because he'll have a, um...young lady with him."_

_ The meaning sunk in and I sneered, "Disgusting."_

_ Jo chuckled then patted me on the back, "Just leave him to us, all you have to do is wave."_

_ I nodded and climbed to the rooftop to wait. It wasn't long before the man arrived, maybe ten minutes tops. The girl Jo mentioned earlier was on his arm laughing as they turned into the alley. Jo had his eyes trained on me and I gave a quick salute as a signal._

_ I saw Jo signal the other four, and with stunning accuracy they were able to get the man slightly cornered. Jo began talk to the man, but I could not hear what he was saying. I saw perfectly though, and everything happened so fast it was a wonder I was able to catch it all._

_ The girl who had been clutching onto the man's arm tightly was suddenly flung away from the man as he screamed, "Run!"_

_ The girl ran and I lost track of her as my attention was drawn back to the four men that attacked, Jo simply stood and watched. The man was able to knock one of the four men out with a swift elbow to the left temple, push Jacque away from him, and produce a pistol which in turn caused the other man to run. _

_ Jacque wouldn't relent though as he pulled out a knife and charged towards the man, that rash move inevitably cost him his life, as the man aimed and put a bullet right between Jacque's eyes._

_ His victory was short lived though as I noticed Jo coming towards him with a knife. Turning a little too late the man blocked the knife, but was not prepared for the force, which caused the pistol to clatter out of the man's hands._

_ Jo was the first to react, scrambling to the ground to grab the gun; the noble followed suit, which became his ultimate downfall. As the man lunged at Jo on the ground, Jo pulled the trigger, and the man released an almost inhuman cry of pain as he fell to his side on the ground._

_ Jo pulled the money pouch out of the man's pocket, and the man who had previously been unconscious chose that moment to come to, noticing Jo with the money they both ran out of the alley._

_ I followed them from the rooftops and when they stopped I jumped from my perch and landed beside the three, the coward who ran having returned._

_ Jo was passing out their 'earnings' and laughed, "Ten for you, ten for me, ten for the coward, and ten for our Phantom."_

_ "What the Hell was that?" I snarled, "You said you weren't going to kill him!"_

_Jo shrugged with a toxic grin spreading across his face, "Desperate times, desperate me'sures, yada, yada, yada."_

_ The man who had run hit Jo complaining, "Why do you get twenty when we only got ten?"_

_ Jo rolled his eyes and sneered, "Cuz I'm the leader and I'm the one who shot the guy. Any you got a problem with that can take it up with my blade."_

_ I regretted helping these men now and as Jo pulled out his knife I felt the rope up my sleeve slowly slide down to my hand, I glared and kept eye contact with everyone, not letting anybody see my sleight of hand. I was about to attack when I heard a blood curdling scream._

_ Everyone looked back towards the alley and Jo smirked, putting his knife away, "Oh yeah...almost forgot 'bout the dau- girl. Oh- the possibilities boys."_

_ I advanced towards Jo, revealing my lasso as he struggled to brandish his knife once again. I growled, "You will not touch her."_

_ The two men laughed but Jo stayed deathly still. He slapped on a cocky grin saying, "Well boys, I will admit he did his part in this lil' fiasco, so let's give him his 'play time.' Oh, one more thing though, if you bring the girl back here when you're done I will give ya my extra ten." _

_ I kept a tight grip on my lasso and considered strangling him, but soon I heard a desperate cry of, "_Somebody help! Please! Help me!_" _

_ Jo saw the look of concern on my face and mocked, "Your girl's callin' for ya lover boy, go'n get her. Dontcha forget though, an extra ten if you bring her back when you're done! I'll wait right here."_

_ I glared at the man before placing my lasso securely back up my sleeve. I returned to the rooftops, as they were the fastest way to return to the alley without going through all the twists and turns. I looked down to see the girl kneeling next to the man, who by this time had lost copious amounts of blood. _

_ The girl seemed frantic. She stood and looked as if she was about to run to get help, but suddenly changing her mind she turned, only to slip with a slight yelp and hit the ground with a loud _thud_._

_ I waited, but she did not get up, so I jumped and descended to the ground. I looked at the man, somehow he was still alive! His bleeding was slowed slightly by the makeshift tourniquet the girl had made using her scarf, but if I wanted him to live I needed to get both of them out of here and to a doctor. No, it needed to be someone I trusted, someone close. Wait; doesn't _she_ live on this street? Yes, she does. _

_ I hoisted the man up and carried him on my back, reluctantly leaving the girl where she lay, only able to carry one person. Like it or not the man was the one who needed the most medical attention, and time was running out. _

_I banged furiously on the wooden door and waited impatiently for her to open it. I heard scurrying feet and soon the door was open. Antoinette looked at me sleepily then smiled when she realized it was me, but her happiness turned to horror when she saw the man hanging on my back. Before she could say anything I grunted out as I shuffled in, "He's hurt...he needs medical attention...I didn't do it."_

_ Antoinette squinted and observed me, "No, but you saw what happened and didn't help, did you? You're tense Erik, I know you. What happ- this is Monsieur Daae. He was my neighbor for over a decade, but moved away some time ago. Where's his daughter?"_

_ Daae? Why does that name sound familiar? I shrugged it off as I placed the man on the couch asking, "Your husband is a doctor, no? I need his assistance, please wake him. The girl, who must be his daughter, is still outside. I will get her."_

_ "Erik," Antoinette whispered. "My husband past away a few months ago, of a heat stroke. It is just Meg and I now."_

_ I stopped in the middle of the doorway, head bowed as I whispered, "I am sorry for your loss."_

_ She nodded and I continued, "Do you still have his equipment?"_

_ "Yes," she answered confused. "Of course I do, why?"_

_ "We have to help him," I said. "See what you can do about his wound, I will be right back." _

_I left without another word, quickly finding the girl back where I left her. Before I moved her I examined her head, making sure she was not bleeding before I placed a hand around her shoulders and under her knees, lifting her without faltering. She was very light but still maintained a healthy weight; and as I carried her I examined her, she was beautiful, even at such a young age._

_ Her nose was peppered with freckles, her jaw was strong, and she had delicate eyelashes that hid her eye color from me. A truly unique quality she possessed however was her hair. All of it was lusciously curled down to the small of her back, but the top of it was a dark chocolate brown while the last six inches of it looked as if she had dipped it in sunlight; it being a light brown almost blonde color. How strange. _

_ What could have caused that? The only women I had seen who had light hair that was not their natural color were women who were constantly outside. Very strange indeed._

_ I returned to Antoinette's and asked to borrow a bed. The guest bed was now occupied by the father, who Antoinette had moved, so she ordered me to place the girl in her bed, seeing as she wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. _

_ I walked about the house and hearing deep breathing coming from one room, Meg's room more than likely, I opened the door next to it and walked in. I shifted the girl in my arms as I pulled the blankets back, setting her down and then covering her up. She muttered something and I leaned in closer, she whispered, "Thank you for protecting me...but I can't stay. Good-bye, Monsieur Black."_

_For a moment I thought that's what she said, but her mouth only formed one word. I realized what she had truly said when she repeated the word 'Papa' and started to toss and turn frantically. I felt my heart break for her, knowing I had a hand in causing her distress. _

_ I started to hum to calm the girl, when she stilled I moved a stray curl away from her face and leaned in to whisper, "I promise I will do everything I can to help your father, rest for now and you can speak to him when you wake."_

_ I left the girl and returned to the guest room, where Madame Giry was standing; cleaning the blood off of her hands after tending to the man's wound. She looked up at me and had tears in her eyes. I strode over and demanded, "What's wrong?"_

_ She took a deep breath then answered with a slight quiver to her voice, "I was able to retrieve the bullet and wrap the wound, but Erik...he has lost so much blood. I honestly do not know how he is still breathing. He will die...before his daughter should wake, I'm sure. I give him but a few minutes more at best."_

_ I glared at her booming, "No! I promised his daughter she would get to speak to him! He has to live, at least to speak to her one last time. He deserves at least that much doesn't he?"_

_ Antoinette sighed and shook her head, "It isn't about what he _deserves_, it is about the _facts_; and the facts are that he has lost too much blood, he is weak, and there is nothing we can do about it. He will die."_

_ I shook my head, "No, there has to be some way."_

_ She slowly bowed her head, "There isn't."_

_ I kicked the chest next to me and swore as I looked back to the man who was now lying on his death bed because of me. Antoinette had shut her eyes briefly at my outburst, but after looking back at the man she turned to me warily saying, "There is one way Erik..."_

I jumped awake, panting as the memories assaulted me. I did not want to think about that, not now. I looked around at the damage I had done, I have done worse, but it looked pretty bad. I wondered how long I had been asleep when I noticed the boat was gone. _Christine!_

I ran to her room, but not seeing her there I ran back to the edge of the lake and dove in. I swam to the opposite side and saw the boat tied to the post there, and knowing she only knew one way out I took off in the direction of her dressing room.

Upon arriving there I saw a crack separating the mirror from the wall, proving that she had already went through it and escaped. I closed the gap then deftly turned on my heel and headed home. Still dripping wet I simply dragged the boat back, tying it to the post and falling on my back when I reached the shore.

I lay there in silence for the longest moment before I covered my face and began to weep. Christine hated me, my past devastated her and my face horrified her, and she has left me. Forever.

**Awww! Poor Erik, but things can only get better from here right?...Maybe. I have to keep things interesting, so no promises. Thank you all for your reviews, they were amazing! A big welcome to 'Dkk5' and ' .948494' for being new reviewers! Well I am posting two chapters because next Friday I will be at Show Choir Camp, whoo! Please review BOTH chapters and tell me what you thought of, **

**1- Part One of what really happened?**

**2- Erik not recognizing Christine?**

**3- Erik neglecting to see the note on her bed in his haste to find her?**

**4- CHALLENGE: Make up a stage name for Gustave using either his last name or Sweden.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Raoul had informed me upon my arrival that he had not slept since arriving home from the Opera; he had even been so concerned that he had rushed to the stage once the chandelier had fallen to make sure I was alright. He had not found me, which soothed him slightly until he had recalled what he saw before the chandelier had fallen. Raoul would not tell me until I'd had time to rest, ushering me into the sitting room and handing me a cup of tea.

Raoul waited until after I had made myself comfortable and had time to relax before he uttered a single word. In that time I began to observe the room around me, it was so different from Erik's sitting room.

Where Erik's walls were barely walls, being carved out of the black and uneven stone, they still seemed to emit that secluded warm feeling that Raoul's whole house- or should I say mansion, lacked. Even with a roaring fire going in the marble hearth, the white walls and lavish furniture felt void of warmth, of compassion. I sat on the white divan clutching my cup of tea and feeling out of place. Even when Papa and I were rich we never squandered our money on the lavish and expensive, we bought what we needed and since we were such a small family we never needed much.

I looked above the hearth where a large portrait of the De Chagny family hung, it looked as if it was painted around the time Raoul and I first met, he was still but a small boy. I smiled at the look on his face, it looked calm but his slightly curved eyebrows and deep blue eyes showed how aggravated and impatient he was to be able to move once more. His mother and father looked unreal; they looked calm and content, as if they were painted from thought instead of actual living breathing people. His brother Philippi, being the infamous playboy he was today, looked to have mischief floating in his green eyes as a half grin adorned his face.

Raoul had started speaking of the Opera before the crash, but when he realized my mind was not hearing what he was saying he followed my eyes to the portrait. He laughed heartily, which pulled me out of my thoughts and I asked, "What is it?"

Raoul shook his head as he smiled, "You do not remember do you?"

I shook my head, "No, not at all. What is it?"

Raoul pointed to the picture, "Have you noticed my slightly aggravated expression?" When I nodded and stifled a laugh he continued, "that was the day before your father and you were to leave for your old home. I was posing for eternity for that blasted portrait and barely made it in time to say good-bye to you. Do you remember now?"

I blushed, remembering quite well. I smiled, "Father had to practically pry us apart, I wanted to return home but I remember not feeling right about leaving for a week. You ran into the yard as if the devil were at your heels screaming my name, you even tripped over the roots of our oak tree and successfully covered your front in dirt before immediately popping back up and running towards me."

Raoul chuckled as he covered his mouth saying, "Oh yes, I remember that all too well. I tackled you to the ground and smeared dirt down the front of your pink- ah...dress."

We both laughed at that as I said, "I could have kissed you for that, I hated that pink frilly thing! Papa pulled us apart and ordered me to go change, and he gave you a 'talking to' about how we would not leave without seeing you, and that there was no point in acting like a wild child when we both knew we _couldn't_ leave without saying good-bye to you."

Our laughter lingered for a bit before everything went deathly quiet. Raoul cleared his throat before asking, "Do you miss him?"

For a moment I tensed, thinking he was referring to Erik, but remembering the subject we were on I nodded, "Every day. I never thought I would lose him so soon, that I would never get to experience things like a father-daughter dance or him walking me down the aisle on my wedding day. I even miss the little things; like him cooking breakfast, telling jokes so I would smile, or playing the violin late at night so I would fall asleep. Little things that you don't think you'd miss until you're older."

Raoul set his cup down and reached over the small gap separating our small chairs to capture my hand saying, "I'm sorry Christine, I know how you feel, it is now just Philippi and I in this great big house. My mother passed away last month and my father passed soon after you disappeared, had I known that you were at the Opera this whole time I would have-...well it doesn't matter now. Tell me though, who is your mystery man in black?"

I quickly pulled my hand away from Raoul and asked, "What do you mean?"

Raoul looked at my hand that now rested curled close to my chest and said, "The man who pulled you off the stage and down through the trap door."

I gasped, "What? There was no one; I _fell_ through the trap door."

Raoul shook his head, "No, I saw, you did not. You backed up but stopped. You looked up to me and I was about to scream for you to take merely a couple steps back, but before I could a man jumped from the shadows of the trap door then grabbed you and swept you off the stage into the dark hole of the trap door mere seconds before the chandelier would have crushed you."

I set my tea aside and stood to walk over to the hearth. I felt dizzy all of sudden and truth be told, close to tears. Raoul stood as well, asking, "Christine what is wrong? Are you ill?"

I shook my head and turned my head as the tears began to flow. Erik's voice echoed in my head as I remembered him saying, '_You think I don't care about you? If I didn't care about you I would have left you up on that stage to die!_'

I figured Erik had simply opened the trap door and let me fall through, but to actually climb on stage when the chandelier was so close to crashing...he literally pulled me from the hands of death, that was something I never expected him to do. It shocked me, it amazed me, it...it made me feel horrible. As soon as I had regained consciousness the first thing I did was scream at him. Even after I did he still made sure I was alright, and then I called him a murderer...but it was true! Wasn't it?

"I'm a horrible person." I muttered as I stared into the fire.

Raoul strode over to me and pulled me into a tight embrace once he saw my tear streaked face, cooing, "No, Christine. God no, you are _not_ a horrible person. What is the matter, what has happened to make you think this way? I feel as though you are not telling me something, and if it is causing you this much distress you must confess it. It is only going to eat at you until you do."

Raoul let go of me then moved two chairs over by the fire saying, "Come, sit by the fire, that's it sit down. Now, tell me, what is the matter?"

I pursed my lips, "It is a very long story."

Raoul smiled as he grasped my hand, "I have time Christine."

I sighed, "Alright. Well, it started nearly three months ago..."

**...**

I told Raoul everything, well everything but the fact that Erik had sung to me and we had kissed because of it. I left that little detail out, not wanting to disclose that special time we had before this all happened. Raoul was a devoted listener I must say, he only interrupted a few times to ask a question. Once my tale was done we sat in silence while Raoul processed everything I had said.

After a minute or two Raoul said, "Do you want to go back?"

"Well when the stage is cleared and fixed I'm sure everyone will be working again, so I will be returning with the rest. Not to mention-"

"That's not what I asked," Raoul interrupted. "I asked, do you want to go back?"

I looked at him confused, "I do not understand. I have to go back, I work there, it's how I get by. Music is my passion, and I do not wish to work, or sing, anywhere else."

"You do not have to live there though, where this Erik fellow could steal you away any time he chose to. Christine, stay here with me." Raoul begged as he got on his knees before my chair and clutched my hands in his.

"Raoul I-I don't...I don't know, I-I just, I-I mean it isn't proper," I stammered.

"To Hell with being proper!" Raoul growled, I had never seen him like this before, "This man, who you said has murdered before, has full access to you and seems to be quite taken with you. I'll be damned if I'll let you stay there!"

"I'll be fine Raoul," I said trying to calm him. "You have said I could stay here until the Opera is back up and running, and I am grateful. I'm sure Erik will forget about me soon enough, and besides, he has always acted the gentleman around me. Even after he knew I knew what he had done, so I do not believe he will take any liberties from me now."

Raoul shook his head, "Christine, I am not letting you return there. My mind is made, you're staying here."

I stood, as did Raoul, "Raoul, you cannot force me to stay, and I have told you, it is not proper for a single woman to be staying-"

"Marry me then!" Raoul bellowed as he pulled me closer.

"What?" I asked in shock.

Raoul got down on his knee, still clutching my hands saying, "Christine Elizabeth Daae, will you marry me? You know I love you, and I know at one point in your life you cared a great deal about me, if not loved me as well. I would always make you happy and protect you from any danger. Please, say you'll be mine."

For a moment I couldn't say anything, my heartbeat was louder than anything and I couldn't concentrate on a singular thought. This was all so much to think about in a single evening, and I needed sleep; but he was waiting for my answer. I did care a great deal about Raoul, but is it enough to marry him? Suddenly I thought of something Erik had said to me and I knew what my answer was.

I fell to my knees in front of Raoul and gave him a sad smile. I stared at him for a moment before loosely wrapping my arms around his middle and embracing him. He gave a sigh of defeat and slumped against me. I smiled brightly out of his line of vision then leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "Yes Raoul. I will marry you."

**I don't know if any of you will believe this, but I LOVED writing this chapter! Don't worry, I'm not crossing over to the bright side, just used a few childhood memories and swapped Raoul with another boy I happened to see today after YEARS and absolutely could NOT stop smiling while writing this. I typed AND went over this chapter all in one day, I am in SUCH a good mood you don't even know! Not to mention Show Choir camp! Wish me luck that it'll be better than last year! No late night skinny dipping (I wore a swim suit), boys in the girls's cabin (None of us were doing ANYTHING but talking and eating cold pizza), or mattresses on the roof! XD Okay, before I REALLY start to ramble I'm wrapping this up. Please review BOTH chapters and tell me what you thought of,**

**1- Christine reminiscing with Raoul?**

**2- Christine withholding certain information?**

**3- Raoul's proposal?**

**4- (giddy/nervous laughter) Christine's answer? **


	12. Chapter 12

**HEY! I'm back, and I want you guys to know that there is a LONG author's note at the bottom that I would appreciate if everybody read. Thank you.**

**Chapter 12**

I looked at myself in the grand mirror in front of me and released a breath in the form of a sigh, I looked fine. That was it though, I looked fine but I didn't feel fine, I felt horrible. I have been engaged for nearly three months now, but I have not returned to the Opera. It has been open to the public for a week, but the cast and workers had returned to the Opera nearly a month prior. I informed the managers that I would be taking a leave of absence since I was now engaged and needed time to make the preparations.

The Opera put on a performance the first night it re-opened, with La Carlotta as the lead. Meg had informed me that even though her voice had not improved since her last performance, the Opera Ghost did not send one of his infamous letters to the managers. Actually, nobody had heard from the Opera Ghost since the chandelier crash.

That scared me. What had happened to Erik? I must confess that my leave of absence was not only due to my being engaged, but also because I harbored small feelings of fear of Erik, of what he might do after reading my note. Standing here though, looking at myself in the mirror, I felt like a coward and a liar.

I had been staying at the De Chagny estate with Raoul and Philippi, and over the course of time I had come to realize that I could not force myself to love Raoul, and I didn't. At least, not in the way he wanted me to. I cared for him very much, but as a friend or even a brother. This is what made me a liar. I knew I did not love him and I was still going to marry him.

I still had thoughts of calling it off, but every time I would bring it up with Raoul he would beam and smile that dazzling smile of his. I couldn't break his heart, and besides, I did want to have kids before I was too old. I was nearly twenty and a plain girl like me would not have another chance to marry a man who loved me like Raoul did. _Liar_.

I turned away from the mirror as my gloved hands twirled the handle of my mask, thinking about the one person I had avoided thinking about at every turn these past few months. _Erik_. I wondered what he had thought of my note when he read it, probably the same thing I was thinking now. I am a coward.

I missed him, and as I sat down on my bed I felt close to tears. Oh God, after everything he has done and even after all the lies, I forgave him. I had no hate towards him as I did in the beginning once I found out, I only felt the loss of a strong bond with a small dose of fear from the rage I had witnessed him exhibit. More than anything I was afraid he would turn that rage on me, but I always reminded myself that he had protected me. After I had pushed his patience to the limit and after I had unmasked him he still only thought of me.

I heard Raoul knock on my door calling, "I am ready, take your time and I will meet you in the foyer."

Once I heard his footsteps fade away I let out a shaky breath I didn't know I had been holding. I knew, I just _knew_, that something was going to happen tonight. Whether it be good or bad I had no clue, but the sense of dread in the pit of my stomach gave me the idea that it wasn't going to be the former. Erik was sure to make an appearance tonight, it was a masquerade ball after all, of course he would be there.

What if he approached me? What would I do? I already knew that if he asked me to come back to him I would, I already forgave him. What of Raoul though, he would be with me the whole night. Would Erik know of my engagement? Would he be mad? I absent mindedly began to twist my ring that hung around my neck.

I shook my head as I released my ring, Erik's words replaying over and over in my head. He wouldn't care. He probably thinks me so much a coward now that if he did attend he would avoid me at all costs. With that thought in mind I stepped into my shoes and exited my room to meet Raoul in the foyer. He smiled at me as he presented his arm for me to take. I did so with a smile, and soon we were off to the _Opera Populaire_.

**...**

I was right. Raoul and I had been at the ball for over two hours; and no black haired, tall, amber eyed man had approached us. I must admit I was disappointed, but slightly relieved as well. If Erik did not appear now then perhaps I could return to the Opera sooner rather than later. After all, if he would not contact me here then surely he would leave me be when I returned as well.

A lively song began to play, and Raoul pulled me in for a dance. I broke out into laughter as Raoul twirled me about wildly and pulled me back to him, he always was a crazy but skilled dancer. Inadvertently I began to think of the time I danced with Erik in his home, as brief as it was, but that thought prompted me to think of the events following the dance.

I had to once again shake myself out of my thoughts, so I would not dwell on what could not be and break my own heart. All of a sudden Raoul pulled me in for a kiss, it made me nervous for so many people to see us but I allowed him to kiss me.

When I pulled away I noticed the song was reaching its climax and some of the performers had taken to the stairs to finish off the dance. Everybody stopped to watch them as they began to sing,

_"Masquerade_!

_Paper faces on parade._

_Masquerade!_

_Hide your face so the world will never find you._

_Masquerade!_

_Every face a different shade._

_Masquerade!_

_Look around, there's another mask behind you!_

_Masquerade!_

_Burning glances, turning heads._

_Masquerade!_

_Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you!_

_Masquerade!_

_Grinning yellows, spinning reds._

_Masquerade!_

_Take your fill, let the spectacle-...astound you."_

The music turned dark and people had slowed their song, just finishing it before they noticed the imposing figure standing at the top of the stairs. Red Death, also commonly known as Erik. Once again, I was right. This was not and could not, possibly be good. The air was thick and fear was rolling off of everyone.

Raoul, knowing who Erik was, and knowing that it was him, held me close. That possibly made things worse, because as soon as Raoul moved to hold me Erik's eyes locked on us and he slowly began to descend down the stairs, hissing,

"_Why so silent, good Monsieurs?_

_Did you think that I had left you for good?_

_Have you missed me good Monsieurs?_

_I have written you an Opera; here I bring the finished score;_

_Don Juan Triumphant!_"

Erik threw the manuscript out and Firmin ran forward to quickly catch it, jumping back as Erik continued forward to address some of the cast, smirking,

"_Fondest greetings to you all;_

_A few instructions just before rehearsals start._"

Raoul left my side, I knew he was planning to do something foolish but Erik had begun to speak again and I was powerless to do anything but listen. He turned to Carlotta as he reached the bottom of the stairs, sneering,

"_Carlotta must first be taught to act, _

_Not her normal trick of simply strutting around the stage._"

Erik then turned to a quaking Monsieur Andre and Firmin, sneering at the two as he growled out,

"_As for my managers,_

_ They must learn that their place is in an _office_;_

_Not. The. Arts._"

Erik then turned his gaze towards me and I was rooted in place, I couldn't move. His eyes; in his eyes were the same emotions I had seen the first night he brought me to his home. Strangely enough, all the anger had washed out of his voice and was replaced with that beautiful angel's voice I had come to love. Pointing to me he said,

"_And as for our star, Miss Christine Daae._

_I know she'll do her best; it's true her voice is good._

_She knows though, should she wish to excel;_

_She has much still to learn, would pride or fear allow her to return to me?_

_Her teacher...her dark angel._"

The last phrase was spoken in a whisper, a whisper I was sure only I could here. A long silence filled the room before Erik spoke in a business like tone, "The Opera will be held in one month, and my original cast will not be changed, under _any_ circumstances."

Firmin and Andre began to babble about the money and there not being enough time to prepare, but Erik's head snapped to look at them, a sharp glare silencing them immediately. Once they were quiet Erik replied with malicious humor in his voice,

"I_ advise you to comply,_

_My instructions should be clear._

_Remember!_

_There are worse things than a shattered chandelier._"

I stared at Erik, a look of horror coming over my face. He had _purposely_ dropped the chandelier? What on earth- _who_ on earth was this man? Apparently noticing my horrified expression he took a few steps away from the landing of the stairs towards me. He wasn't close by any means, but it let me know he was speaking to me more than anyone else.

He looked around to give the allusion this wasn't simply for my benefit, "After watching the disaster which was your last performance, expect frequent notes from me. Some I will need to speak to...face-to-face shall we say, and some will be lucky enough to only receive orders."

Erik paused here, his eyes drifting somewhere behind me and locking on something. I turned to see Raoul walking forward, and then picking up his pace as soon as I turned, a rapier in his hands. I wondered what could have provoked this strange bout of running when I suddenly heard Erik's voice hiss directly behind me, "That is, as long as they stay out of my way."

I hadn't realized that as soon as I had turned Erik had taken the necessary strides he needed to reach me. Hearing his voice I turned too late as he pulled me back a few feet, the floor suddenly swallowing us up in a mouth of fire.

I heard a call of 'Christine' then I was once again falling, but before I could scream Erik's hand clamped over top of my mouth. Soon enough though we had landed, Erik releasing me as the landing left us sprawled out on the floor.

I was lying on my side as I took in my surroundings, the room was full of spinning mirrors and a single noose hanging in the corner of the room. I immediately stood, trying to figure out how to get out. Before I went into a panic I felt Erik grasp my upper arms from behind whispering, "Got you."

I jumped at his words as he pushed me forward, towards the spinning mirrors, and thrashed to get away but to no avail. I yelped as I was pushed completely through, running into a red curtain. Erik had released me before that, but my frantic movements caused me to twist myself into the curtain, I jerked and pulled the curtain away from me as if it were going to strangle me.

I hugged myself as I calmed down, nearly giving myself a heart attack. I saw a hallway and decided to get as far away from Erik as possible, taking off my shoes and then running as fast as my feet could carry me. I went around turns and long ramped corridors before finally bursting through a door. Hearing it slam behind me I stopped to catch my breath.

To my horror I noticed that I was back in Erik's home, I was in the main room that connected the sitting room and other rooms together. I mentally berated myself; of course the ramped hallways going _down_ would not return me to the ballroom. I heard the door open behind me; I turned to see Erik walking through it with a grin on his face.

He snickered, "I understand you were eager to see the old place again, but you did not have to _run_ all the way here."

My eyes narrowed and I tried to think of a retort, but I was so angry I could only stutter, "You-you...I didn't- I mean...why did you-...ugh!"

I stamped my foot in annoyance, but Erik merely crossed his arms and patiently waited for me to calm down. I put my shoes back on then took a few deep breaths, afterwards I demanded in a calm voice, "Take me back."

Erik quickly looked away from me, silence following for a while until he whispered, "I have to talk to you. First of all, are you-?"

"Take me back," I demanded. "You cannot just steal me away like that, people will worry about me, and after what you have just admitted they have good reason to be."

Erik pointed his finger at me sharply bellowing, "I wouldn't hurt you and you know it! As for the chandelier, that _was_ an accident...but they don't need to know that."

I shook my head as I looked away from him, "You may be able to manipulate them, but it will not work on me. I know you, Erik. I want you to take me back, because I have no intentions of discussing what happened during my last visit with you."

Erik scoffed as he gestured to his mask, "You'd rather not relive the horror of...this?"

I turned with a stunned look on my face, wondering exactly what he thought I was disgusted with him for. If he thought it was his face, then surely he was mad. It was hideous, I will not lie, but what a person looks like on the outside has nothing to do with who they are on the inside. However, Erik might be the exception that proves the rule.

I kept my breathing even and my tone normal as I said, "No Erik, I'd rather not relive the horror of what you've done. I left for a reason."

Erik seemed to jolt at that as he started to walk towards me, using a condescending tone as he said, "Ah! Yes, let's talk about _that_ since you've oh-so graciously brought it up. All I asked you to do was listen to me, but no, what do you do? You rip my mask off and then you run the first chance you get. You've said that what 'I did' was cruel, but out of the two of us which is the cruelest?"

I began to clutch my ring again, twisting it as I fumed, "I did not do it on purpose! I had told you to let me go, just like I am asking you to take me back now. People will be worried about- Erik!"

I had been interrupted when Erik stomped over to me and ripped my necklace with my ring attached to it off of my neck. He turned his back to me and examined it as I demanded he give it back.

Erik turned his head to me and smirked, "Let me guess. The Vicomte's?"

I glared at him as I said, "_That_ is none of your business, but that _is_ my ring and I want it back."

Erik turned on me as he screamed, "So you're going to marry the Vicomte? Are you _mad_?"

My mouth dropped open, "You're accusing _me_ of being mad? If I remember correctly you said, and I quote, 'You could marry that damn Vicomte for all I care!' Recall it?"

Erik shook his fist with the ring and chain hanging from it growling, "I didn't- I wasn't being literal! I _do_ care that you're marrying some fop that you don't even know, or love for that matter!"

I smiled sarcastically, "Oh really, and who would you have me marry? You?"

The corner of Erik's mouth quirked upward for minute and then he started to slowly walk towards me, shrugging, "As a matter of fact...yes."

I was terrified on the inside as Erik stood directly in front of me, but on the outside I laughed cynically, "Now _that_ is the most ridiculous thing you have ever said. Why would I marry you when I could marry Raoul?"

Erik's jaw clenched for a moment before he took a breath and smiled triumphantly, "Because, besides the obvious differences in looks, there is something I have that your boy doesn't."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms as I looked back up at Erik annoyed, "And what would that be Monsieur le Phantom?"

Erik walked forward to my right and leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Your love."

My cheeks burned and my hands clenched into fists at my sides as Erik moved behind me then whispered in my left ear, "Deny that if you can."

I looked ahead of me and noticed the boat. Why hadn't I thought of that before? I paced over to it, swiftly untying it and stepping in. Erik wasn't pursuing and I had to stop and wonder why. Turning to look at him he simply held the chain and ring up mocking, "Forgetting something?"

Once again I had to scold myself, where is my head tonight? With my ring apparently; tightly held in the palm of Erik's hand. I stepped out of the boat and walked back over to Erik, gritting out, "What do I have to do to get my ring back?"

Erik smiled and pointed to the sitting room, "Sit down for five minutes and listen to my side of the story and it's all yours. I'll give you your ring and even escort you back up myself, unless afterwards you wish to stay, of course."

"Not likely," I said a little too snappy.

Erik glared at me and repeated, "Five minutes."

I gave a defeated sigh, walking over to the sitting room and sitting in a chair opposite of the chair I knew to be Erik's. He walked over after a moment, tucking my ring into his pocket and sitting down with his hands in his lap.

I waited, but when only silence followed and he did nothing but stare at me I asked, "Aren't you going to talk? That was the deal."

Erik shook his head saying, "I was thinking about what Buquet could have possibly told you to get you to 'hate me' as you've put it."

I decided not to help him with the information, seeing how much of Buquet's story he would change. I tapped my wrist saying, "Your five minutes is ticking away, I suggest you begin, and tell the truth."

Erik immediately took off saying, "I did not kill your father! I met Buquet in an alley one night and I heard him scheming with these other men. When I asked him what they were doing he said that they were trying to get revenge on this 'noble' that had beaten a man that was with them for begging for money."

I interrupted saying, "My father never beat anybody!"

Erik growled, "I know that! I did not know it was your father at the time! Hell, I didn't know it was your father at all, not until you told me that day. When I first found out that night that you were that man's daughter I-"

"Wait," I interrupted. "Who did you think I was the man's wife?"

"No, of course not." Erik said rolling his eyes and shaking his head, "I _thought _you were a prostitute."

My eyes widened in fury and Erik quickly tried to recant, holding his hand up and stammering, "No! No, no, no, no! I did not think that, well I did- but Buquet _told_ me that's what you were. May I please just continue?"

I nodded, "I think you should."

Erik let out a breath of relief, "I was barely even a part of the group, all I did was stand on a rooftop and signal that you and your father had entered the alley. I did nothing wrong, Christine. I did not even know that they were going to kill him. I would never murder, directly or not, in cold blood."

"You still didn't help us!" I shot back, "They attacked us and eventually shot my father, what were you doing after they had, getting help? Or did you simply collect your money and leave? I screamed for help Erik, and if you were on the rooftop, then how come you didn't?"

Erik went silent and I saw his hands clench into fists before he practically forced out the sentence, "I _was_ collecting my money, but I had went back after that to-"

"To collect me for the extra francs?" I seethed, "Buquet told me about the deal, that should someone bring the girl back they would get the biggest cut of the money. He said they sent you."

Erik spoke slowly, as if to a child, "Well, obviously I didn't turn you in to them. You are here aren't you?"

I laughed, "Nice try, Madame Giry told me she had found my father and I only minutes after I had fainted."

Erik shook his head, "No, she _saw_ you only minutes after you had fainted. _I_ found you, and your father, _as_ you were fainting."

My eyes widened, he had been the shadow I had seen descend from the rooftop, that was him. Swallowing my surprise I asked, "What then?"

"I carried your father to Madame Giry's house where she was able to use her recently deceased husband's tools to retrieve the bullet and doctor his wound."

Erik went to say more but stopped, cryptically finishing, "That is all you need to know."

"What does that mean?" I asked warily.

Erik sighed, "It means your time is up, and now that you know the truth I will return you to the Opera."

"But that's not the whole story, is it Erik?" I asked accusingly.

Erik shook his head, "The whole story is too long, I told you what is true and what you needed to know. No more, no less."

I rose from my seat, as did Erik. He offered me his hand but I did not take it. Erik didn't seem offended, simply saying, "Follow me then."

I did as he asked. We both stepped into the boat, but once we reached the other side of the lake we did not go through the tunnel we usually went through. Erik had turned left and opened a portion of the wall, which revealed a giant stairwell that went straight up. We started to ascend in silence, Erik occasionally looking back at me.

There were several places where the stairs would connect to a platform but we passed several before we stopped at one. Erik had offered me his hand once again, and once again I didn't take it, when I didn't this time he asked, "You do not believe me, do you?"

"Yes," I whispered. "I believe you Erik."

He looked shocked, asking, "Do you forgive me then?"

I was silent for a long moment then whispered as I studied my hands, "I forgave you a long time ago Erik."

He smiled at that, asking, "Then why have we been playing these ridiculous games?"

I backed up as he reached for me, explaining, "Even though I forgive you, and I believe you...it does not change anything. You still lied to me Erik, a-and I have already agreed to marry Raoul. The things that have happened in the past have caused an unrepairable rift between us."

I hated myself for doing this but I kept my head down and held my palm out. I felt Erik drop my ring and chain into my hand, asking, "When is your wedding?"

I bit my lip, "Six weeks from now."

Erik nodded, "You are going to marry the boy?"

"Yes. I am," I mumbled, hoping he would let me leave.

Erik snorted in disgust, "And that is your final word on the matter?"

My air flow felt restricted but I managed to croak out after a moment, "Yes."

I felt Erik smirk as he said, "We'll see about that."

My head shot up and before I could say anything Erik put a hand on my back and pushed me forward, the wall on the platform swiveled and suddenly I wasn't in the stairwell anymore, I was in the foyer of the Opera house.

I turned and pushed on the wall, softly calling 'Erik' as I tried to swivel the wall again. What did he mean when he said 'we'll see about that'? After knocking and calling to him multiple times I gave up. I hit the wall with my fist mumbling, "Damn you Erik. What are you planning?"

I went to fasten my ring back around my neck when I noticed something important, it wasn't my ring. It was a silver band, which wrapped around a big black onyx stone in the center. This was Erik's ring; I had seen him wear it before. Why did he switch the rings?

_"Oh really, and who would you have me marry? You?"_

_ "As a matter of fact...yes."_

I sighed as that thought began to torment me; I couldn't just get rid of the ring though. Against my better judgment I removed my glove and placed the ring on the ring finger of my left hand. I admired the ring with a small smile for a moment, and then I quickly replaced my glove to hide it. I must be mad after all.

**Hello everybody, I must apologize for any big slip ups in this chapter because I honestly didn't start writing it until Tuesday. I spell checked it once, but I'm sure I missed some. Sorry, this week and next week's plans have really just hit me. Not to mention camp absolutely kicked my butt, but hey I absolutely LOVE our show! If any of you want to know what it is tell me in a review and I'll PM you.**

**Okay, you guys are probably going to get mad but I MIGHT put this story on hold for a while. You see this is my schedule for the next few days:**

**Saturday- Kings Island**

**Sunday- Finish summer reading project and resting from K.I.**

**Monday- Show Choir Practice (It begins)**

**Tuesday- Early morning orientation and afternoon audition for Les Miz show**

**Wednesday- Friend's birthday party**

**Thursday- Hailey comes to stay at my house for 9 days while parents are in Florida**

**Friday- First day of school.**

**So, that's that. Three more things and I'm done, I swear.**

**1- A couple people in the past have asked me what I look like, and while it is in my bio a friend told me he put me in a uTube video so if you want to see me type in, 'I Knew You Were Trouble (Music Video)' by: songboy1071. I am the grey sweatered...blonde.**

**2- Google images, my take on Erik's ring. 'Black Onyx Ring for Women' **

**3- Please READ AND REVIEW! 8D (on anything you want) **


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

I heard Christine call my name softly multiple times before finally giving up. I heard her hit the wall before muttering, "Damn you Erik. What are you planning?"

I chuckled softly as I began to descend the stairs, my head a swirl of confusion. She forgave me, and she believed me; but she was _still_ going to marry that fop? _Why_?!

I stopped where I was, and then my fist collided with the railing before I planted myself down on one of the steps. I was afraid that if I didn't tame my rage I would ultimately end up falling down these blasted steps and break my neck.

I removed my mask and rubbed my 'face', finally muttering, "Curse you Christine. What the Hell are you thinking?"

I understood why she was doing what she was, at the same time I didn't, and somehow I knew her brain was as clouded and as confused as mine was about this whole ordeal. She listened, thank God, there must be one after all, so maybe she'll change her mind; but if she thinks I'm just going to sit back and let her make her decision without trying to sway her then she _is_ mad.

Come Hell or high water, I have six weeks, and this will be my personal vendetta. She will love me, and I'll make her admit it; whether she wants to or not. I know she does, but she has to say it. I wonder now whether I should have withheld the continuation of the story, but I was not going to tell her that. She would think I was either lying, or at the time guilt simply drove me to do it.

That would be a lie, I did feel guilty but I did not have to do what I did. I could have just said, 'I did the best I could, sorry but I am not willing to risk my own life.' I didn't, and I bought him more time. She could not say I did it because I knew him before hand, I did not recognize him and he was a perfect stranger to me.

I rubbed my temples, finally deciding that it wasn't worth mentioning. She already forgave me, so what would be the point? The way I see it, I made amends for the sins I committed that night. I know I did, and that is all that matters.

I stood, replacing my mask and continuing down the stairs. I soon reached the boat, seizing the oar and rowing with a vengeance to release the rest of my anger. I was calm halfway home, but before I reached the shore I heard a very distinctive, and parental, voice call out, "Erik."

My hand gripped the oar tighter, groaning audibly as I hit shore, seeing the bane of my existence standing with her hands on her hips and glaring at me. I ground my heel into the bank as I stepped out of the boat growling, "What woman, what do you want? I am very tired."

Antoinette's eyes grew wide before she seethed, "I'm sorry your highness is tired, but we need to have a talk. I'm sure you realize that that little stunt you pulled was-"

"Antoinette!" I interrupted, "You forget I am a grown man, I am not going to stand here and listen to you lecture me. You do not, and _cannot_, control me like you do your daughter!"

Antoinette strode over to me, poking a finger to my chest as she said, "And _you_ forget that I am nine years your senior Erik, so you will show me some respect. You have no right to take your anger out on me, I have always been there for you; not to mention _I _was the one who saved your life those many years ago."

My anger deflated and my shoulders visibly sagged as she said that. She was right, as usual; I needed to calm down, and maybe a second opinion on all of this was exactly what I needed. I guided Antoinette into the sitting room and asked, "So, what is it you wish to discuss with me?"

Antoinette bit her lip as she muttered, "I did not think there was any harm in it at the time, so you must not become cross with me."

I took a deep breath then let it out slowly growling, "What?"

Antoinette stared at me for a moment before she exclaimed, "The de Chagny boy asked how you came to be here, and how I knew everything I knew. I reluctantly told him, but nothing concerning Christine or her father, thank Heavens, for Christine had returned with Meg only a little while before I finished my tale."

My eyes widened at her confession and fear caused me to choke out, "What did you tell them, Antoinette?"

She looked down at her hands in her lap then mumbled, "The truth."

**...**

_ I was standing close to the secret trapdoor I knew Erik was about to use, but to my horror, Raoul de Chagny was coming towards Erik and Christine with a rapier. Christine was oblivious to this, but Erik was not. Erik seized Christine the first moment he caught her off guard and spirited her away in an inferno of flames before Raoul could reach them._

_ I took an involuntary step forward and softly called out, "Erik."_

_ Everybody around me was screaming and fleeing to safety, all but one. Raoul's head had snapped to mine when he heard my slip of the tongue, and immediately he started to bombard me with questions._

_ I fled to my room as he followed after me, calling, "Madame Giry! Madame Giry!"_

_ As I began to open the door I implored him to believe me as I tripped over my words, "Please Monsieur, I-I know no more than anyone else."_

_ I tied to shut the door behind me but Raoul flung it open bellowing, "That's not true! You know something, enough to know his name."_

_ I tried to dismiss him but he looked so sad, his eyes begging for the truth as he pleaded, "Please, Madame Giry, for all our sakes."_

_ I sighed in defeat, taking a seat as I said, "Very well."_

_ Raoul sat in the chair opposite of mine as I asked, "What do you wish to know?"_

_ Raoul looked lost for a moment then asked, "How do you know him, where did he come from, and why is he here? Of all places?"_

_ I smiled as Raoul had asked the exact three questions I could answer. I looked about me as I began, "It was a long time ago, I was merely thirteen; a woman moved into the house next door, who I had seen sneak a young boy into the house that late night, who I guessed was her son. My family and I never saw the woman's son, but town rumors suggested that if she did have a son she kept him hidden because he was-"_

_ "Deformed," Raoul finished for me._

_ I nodded, "Yes, and you see, my room was closest to that house, being so close sometimes I would hear crying in the middle of the night. Just-...just incessant crying and wailing, as if the poor boy was being beaten. I would often inquire about him, but it seemed I was the only one who cared, I would always be dismissed with my questions unanswered."_

_ I paused there to take a shaky breath, "One night however, I snuck out of the house and found a window leading into the basement I could crawl through. Once I gained entrance into the house, I wished I had done so earlier. In the damp, dark basement sat that little boy, clutching a scrap of clothing around him for warmth as he sat atop a pile of hay. He had what looked to be a burlap sack placed over top of his head, but even without seeing his face I could tell he was crying...as he did every night._

_ I took a cautious step forward, but the small movement alerted the boy to my presence, he immediately jumped back and cowered in a small corner whimpering, 'Please don't hurt me...I didn't do anything wrong. I just want mommy to hold me...' My heart broke at hearing his broken plea, and I kneeled in front of him whispering, 'I shall not harm you, please believe me. My name is Antoinette.'"_

_ I smiled a sad smile as I continued, "He was very scared of me at first, but when I carefully offered him my shawl to keep warm he timidly replied, 'M-my name i-is Erik.' I became his secret care taker after that, vowing that as soon as I was old enough I would take him away from that awful place. For two years, nearly every night since the first, I would sneak over under the cover of darkness. I had seen his face in that time, and it did not deter me from my goal, if anything it made my determination stronger. One night however, when I came to visit him he was crying hysterically, clutching the hay about him for dear life as he laid flat on his stomach."_

_ I stopped, covering my mouth as my voice began to quiver and tears threatened to flow. I cleared my throat and continued, "In the course of time I learned that his mother treated him cruelly, but she had never actually beaten him before. Until that night, when I found him with slashes across his back that bled relentlessly and damage done to his deformed side, making it look even worse than it already did."_

_ "Good God," Raoul muttered. "He was no more than...five or six perhaps? Just a boy, what could he have possibly done?"_

_ I pursed my lips together before replying, "That is exactly what I had asked him when I found him. I sat there with him for hours while he cried. He couldn't do much else; the pain was too much for him. When he found strength to be still and speak he sobbed in between words, 'T-today w-was...my b-birthday. I turned s-six...a-and I asked mom-my instead of a new mask...i-if I could have something else. I-I asked for a kiss, a-and she...she...' _

_ I don't think I've held anyone tighter to me than I did Erik in that moment. I wanted to protect him, but it seemed that his birthday was not over yet, and because of me it would only get worse. Before I had time to react his mother, Madeline, had descended the steps and opened the door hissing, 'Quit your sniveling, you deserve worse for asking-' She had stopped when she noticed my form clutching onto Erik."_

_ "What happened?" Raoul asked when I hesitated._

_ "Madeline had pulled me up by the head of my hair, and slapped me so hard across the face that I fell to the floor. I remember seeing spots before she returned to Erik, hoisting him up by his arm as her nails dug into his tender flesh, hissing horrible things to him. I don't recall a time I have ever reacted this way, but once I saw the fresh blood start to spill something in me snapped. Before I knew what I was doing I launched myself at the vile woman, clawing at her face and slamming her head against the stone floor as hard as I could."_

_ Raoul cleared his throat as he looked down muttering, "Remind me to never get on your bad side."_

_ I laughed, "You better hope you never do."_

_ Raoul looked surprised, and probably not knowing what else to say he merely gestured for me to continue. I brought a hand up to my head as I remembered._

_ I opened my mouth, pausing only a brief moment when I heard feet suddenly stop next to the entrance. I guessed who it was, deciding that they needed to hear this as well. So I continued, "There had been all sorts of debris littered across the floor, and Madeline had gathered a brick fragment and struck me upside the head with it."_

_ I pulled back my hair a bit and revealed a long white scar in my hairline, causing the Vicomte's eyes to widen. I laughed at his reaction and continued, "I awoke in my own room, my parents overjoyed to see I was awake but also cross because Madeline had conjured up some lie of how I broke into her home. She said that when she caught me I had attacked her in a flurry, and then in an attempt to get away I hit my head on an old pipe in the basement. I flat out called her a liar, but it was my word against hers. When I had mentioned her beating her son and tormenting him she had denied it all, claiming that she had no son. I had visited that house again and learned that Erik was truly gone, every trace of him, as if he never existed."_

_ The Vicomte looked confused, "How could he just vanish?"_

_ I clenched my hands together as I gritted out, "He didn't. He was sold."_

_ The Vicomte blanched, "Sold! Sold to whom?"_

_ I bit my lip saying, "A gypsy camp. I did not know this until seven years after that fight with his mother. I had returned to my studies, learning how to be a ballerina, and we were taken to the camp as a fun activity; which it was, until I saw him. He was kneeling in a cage, clutching some sort of a toy while he awaited the crowd. He had grown very tall and muscular, but he had also acquired many scars across his back and stomach._

_ I wondered how he had acquired such horrible scars, but I soon found out. His captor stood outside of the cage and ordered him to remove his mask, but my brave Erik merely turned his head in mock confusion and said, 'No.' This caused the man to get angry, stepping into the cage with a whip. At first Erik fought with the man with an animal like will...but with the advantage of at least twice Erik's weight and a weapon in his hand it should not be a surprise that the gypsy won. As punishment for defying him Erik received new scars that night, the man hit him so many times I lost count, but I began to shake the bars of the cage in rage and anguish. _

_ The sick man thought it was encouragement to see his face so he cleared his throat and said in a sickly gargled voice, 'Behold, the Devil's Child!' I started to cry at that point, Erik had tears streaming down his face while the man held him in place, women screaming in horror and men laughing at his torment. His face had become even worse over the years, no doubt due to the beatings, and I couldn't stand it."_

_ "You freed him then?" Raoul asked._

_ I shook my head, "No, I did not. He freed himself."_

_ Once again the Vicomte looked confused so I continued, "I was practically dragged away from the cage...but I snuck back in the first chance I found. When I returned I saw Erik standing over his captor as he strangled the life out of him. I stood frozen but as Erik picked up his few belongings he noticed me standing there, studying me a moment before stuttering, 'Ant-toinette?' _

_ I didn't answer, because no longer had the question drifted through the air then a shout of 'Murderer' burst forth. Without a thought I grabbed Erik and pulled him out of the tent. We ran, and ran, until finally I noticed I had been pulling him in the direction of the Opera House. I remembered a secret way to get in to the chapel and I opened the gate, shoving Erik inside as I gasped for breath and looked around for men following us."_

_ "So that is how he came to live here!" Raoul exclaimed._

_ "Yes," I admitted. "I hid him from the world and its cruelties. Not to say he has not lived outside of the Opera House, he became quite adventurous once he became a man. That however, is a story for another time._

_ Before the Vicomte could respond I heard feet running down the hall and Meg calling out, 'Christine!' Soon, the Vicomte had dashed out of the room and down the hall as well. My daughter walked into the room, giving an agitated wave of her arm to signal the pair disappearing. I shrugged as I sighed._

_ Meg looked back to the hallway and asked, "Did Raoul give Christine a black-stoned ring as a wedding ring? It seems a bit depressing if he did. Good thing the Phantom didn't see it or he would probably have stolen it; if she hadn't been constantly touching it and clenching her hands together I would have never seen it through the glove._

_ I jolted at that, _a black ring?_ I decided it was time to pay my boy a little visit after all.._

**...**

I gritted my teeth as my arm clenched onto the mantle of the fireplace. With Antoinette retelling my life I could not stay put, so I decided to stand. Antoinette informed me of the way Christine had run after hearing my life story, was she crying perhaps? I could have tortured myself with that thought for hours, but suddenly something occurred to me. "She was wearing a black ring?"

Antoinette gave me a knowing look, "If you're asking if she was wearing a black ring, the one you gave her in replacement of the one that was around her neck, then yes. At least that is what Meg informed me of."

I practically floated down into the chair next to me with a smile on my face. If Antoinette wasn't here I was sure I would have belted my triumph until my throat hurt. This means that I have a chance, she hasn't completely deserted me. She still cares about me!

At my euphoric expression Antoinette stood, walking over to place a hand on my arm saying, "Erik, now listen to me. If you have ever listened to me before, listen to me now, do _not_ do anything rash. Or something you will regret."

I waved Antoinette off, springing out of my chair, suddenly full of energy. I started for my music room then turned on my heel to enter Christine's room. I hadn't been in the room since the last time she was here, too many painful memories. I threw the door open and took in the sight of the room with a smile, but upon further inspection I noticed something I hadn't before. A white piece of parchment was placed upon one of the pillows, neatly folded and signed in Christine's stiff cursive.

I approached it slowly, carefully picking it up as if it could bite me, and then opened it. Reading, and then re-reading the words, I ripped my mask off and threw it onto the floor as I began to cry. I let my tears flow free, and for once the tears were of joy and not of sadness. Christine was telling the truth, she forgave me a long time ago, and she still cares for me. Why had I not discovered this sooner, _before_ that damnable boy proposed to her?

My tears suddenly stopped, _this changed everything_. There was no _trying_ to sway her to my side; she _was_ going to choose me. This is not a game anymore, this means war between the de Chagny boy and I...and if Christine was going to fight her own heart then it was to be war upon them both.

**Okay guys this is going to be quick, I just wanted to say thank you to all of my readers and reviewers, you guys mean the world to me. Which...is why this is tearing me up inside. *Deep breath* Okay, so since school just started back up and I'm in all AP classes I'm going to disappear for a while, this will be the last update for a while. Don't worry, I will still be typing whenever I get a chance, so I'm going to get at least five chapters written before I start back up.**

**And the second reason I'm leaving for a while...well...I'm writing another book. I'm going to try to write three before senior year is over and since my junior year just started I have a pretty good chance of making it. If I can get at least one published and a promise scholarship then I'll have enough money to go to college. So, priorities are straight, sorry for doing this to you guys, I feel like I'm deserting but I'm NOT! I swear.**

**PLEASE READ AND REVIEW, tell me what you thought of,**

**1- Erik's POV?**

**2- Madame Giry telling Erik's backstory?**

**3-Erik's reaction to Christine's letter?**

**4- What do you think the letter said? **


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Meg had found me once Erik returned me, immediately asking me questions about what had happened. I lied, simply saying the Phantom had taken me to scare everyone, and lead me through the catacombs back here almost immediately afterwards. It was obvious that she didn't believe me, but she didn't contradict me and I was grateful for that.

Meg informed me as she pulled me along that Raoul was waiting in her mother's room as they talked, he was asking her about the Phantom. About Erik. This got my attention and when we neared the door I suddenly stopped Meg, stooping low and listening as close as I dare go to the door. Once again Meg did not question me; she stooped beside me and listened as well. I waited on bated breath for Madame Giry to continue, but as she did I suddenly felt my stomach drop.

My heart was suddenly in my throat, and I couldn't breathe. Erik had been caged...a-and _beaten_?! Meg placed a hand on my shoulder, trying to calm my shaking as I furiously wrung my hands and twisted the ring on my finger through my satin glove. When had I begun to shake? I tried to stop, but found it was either concentrate on being still or hold back the tears that were threatening any moment to overflow.

I was relieved when Madame Giry was finished with her tale, but unfortunately the last thing she had said hit me harder than anything else, so hard I actually flinched. She had a smile in her voice as she said, "I hid him from the world and its cruelties. Not to say he has not lived outside of the Opera House, he became quite adventurous once he became a man."

I knew all too well how 'adventurous' Erik had become once he had become a man. Witnessing first hand his bravery and eagerness to protect my father and I, something nobody had ever done for Erik...he always protected himself, or at least tried to. My tears were suddenly unstoppable and I took off down the hallway, wanting to be away from everybody. I needed to think, to be alone, just for a little while.

Meg had called my name as I ran, and before I could disappear down one of the many hallways I heard boots running behind me. I imagined it to be Erik at first, but soon I felt the familiar arms of Raoul encircled my waist, pulling me back and holding me close as I cried into his chest. He didn't ask why I was crying, but I assumed he knew.

For one of the few times in my life I felt truly helpless. I was at a crossroads that left me disoriented as I twisted and turned, looking from one path to the other and circling back again, wanting desperately to make the right decision. I couldn't think with all these voices, screaming at me to go one way and begging not to go the other. Erik, Raoul, Madame Giry, Papa...

I felt Raoul's arms tighten around me as a sudden dizziness hit me. I was so dizzy, I needed air. I didn't know I had spoken that thought out loud, but soon Raoul said in a breathless phrase, "I'll take you outside."

Raoul held me tightly as he ushered me outside, practically carrying me for my lack of energy. When he opened the door I saw that it was raining, and the cool crisp air hit me, causing me to take a deep breath that soothed my nerves as I sat down on the steps. Raoul joined me, his hands clasped in his lap as I held my head in my hands, trying to lose myself in thought. For a moment Raoul remained silent and let me think. That didn't last long though.

"Christine, are you okay? What happened? He grabbed you and I had no idea if you were safe or not! Did that monster hurt you?"

My head snapped up and I immediately barked, "He is _not_ a monster Raoul!"

Raoul flinched at the anger in my voice and even I cringed a bit after I heard my tone, but I was not about to recant my statement. Raoul nodded, "No, not a monster but-"

"Raoul, I do not mean to sound rude but could you be quiet for a few minutes?" I asked in a defeated voice, "Please, I need to think."

Raoul looked shocked at my question but nodded and I gave a tired smile as I leaned back. Taking a deep breath I let it out with a sigh and thought about what I had just learned. Erik had such a wretched childhood, and I found that like Madame Giry, I wanted to hold him and comfort him. He probably would think I was only doing it out of pity...but he said so himself that he knows I love him. He only said that to torment me because of my letter...but do I?

Do I love Erik? Really love him? I wrote it in my letter, at the time I only meant that I cared about him, but maybe he read deeper into it. I remember exactly what I had written and I see the hidden meaning I had placed into certain phrases, but did Erik? I should have written more than what I did, I wasn't in that much of a hurry after all.

_My dearest Erik,_

_I know there is no way I can convince you this is not a trick, that I did not simply leave because I have truly seen you now, but I do not care. I must say what I have to say and I am beseeching you to listen and understand. Please._

_I know you had only told me the truth tonight, was that so selfish? No. But the circumstances of when you decided to finally tell me were. I do not want to hate you Erik, and I cannot believe that I do, but how am I to ever over look what you have done tonight? Not only did I witness you murdering a man, but I found out you are also responsible for my father's death. _

_Erik, even after everything that has happened tonight, I want you to know that I forgive you. I forgive you, because you have never intentionally hurt me and have made me happier in the past few months than I have been in my entire life. I was always happy when I was with you, but I cannot stay here, I cannot be with you. That would only be an insult to my father's memory and what little integrity I have. Our integrity sells for so little it seems, but in life it is all we truly have. It is very small and fragile, but it is the only thing in the world worth having._

_We must never give it away or let somebody take it from us, and I believe that even now you still hold yours tightly; wanting to be the man I have always seen you as. But if you would ask me to stay, knowing what I know, then you would be asking me to give away the very last inch of me. The inch that allows my soul to be free. _

_I am sorry, truly and deeply. I hope you understand this, but what I hope you understand most of all is that even though I will never see you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you again; I love you. With all my heart._

_Christine _

I pinched my eyes shut, the flood of emotions hit me and I felt like crying. Why? Why did Erik have to be a part of that group that murdered my father? Why did I have to fall in love with him and forgive-...I stopped when I remembered what Erik had asked me before he returned me. I had told him in my letter that I had forgiven him, but he had specifically asked. He must not have read it!

My eyes bolted at the sudden realization, his boldness tonight had not been from my letter. He was going to fight for me no matter what, and his resolve is only going to get stronger should he ever actually read my letter.

Dread suddenly festered in the pit of my stomach, dread and an inner knowing that Erik had read my letter now. For some reason I just knew, and I worried about what he would do now. Not Erik, the Opera Ghost, his persona that I saw as Red Death at the Masquerade was who I feared. Erik was always kind and gentle; whereas the Opera Ghost was cunning and very, very dangerous.

The danger was not towards me though, but to the people around me. Erik would never hurt me but if he became desperate enough he would use anybody he could to get to me. Meg, Madame Giry, and even Raoul. Just like he took advantage of the Masquerade, if I ignored him he would do what he needed to get through to me. What was I going to do?

I looked at Raoul, and twisting Erik's ring ruthlessly I bit my lip, making a decision I knew I should have made months ago. I decided that I was going to call the wedding off. Not only for the sake of Raoul's safety, but for my own peace of mind. I spoke of integrity to Erik, preaching that it was something that we must never let someone take or give up, but who would I be to ignore that and marry someone I did not love?

My mouth opened to speak, but soon I heard Meg giggling and turned to see Meg walking out with Raoul's brother, Philippi. She was shoulder to shoulder with him and had a small blush on her face. Seeing this I bit my lip and tried my hardest not to laugh as well, but looking at Raoul I noticed that he seemed angered by the two.

Raoul cleared his throat asking, "Philippi? Shouldn't you be home by now?"

Philippi gave his brother a wink and laughed, "What? And leave my little brother here all alone? Somebody has to look after you, and it seems I have met an intriguing and beautiful young lady at this Opera House as well. This is where they have been hiding all of the beauties, wouldn't you say?"

Meg giggled once again, playfully swatting Philippi on the arm. Raoul stood at this, offering me his hand so I could stand as well. Once I did he curtly said, "Well, we best be heading home now Philippi, it was a pleasure to see you again Meg. Come Philippi."

Philippi rolled his eyes sarcastically replying, "Yes, father."

Raoul turned and glared at Philippi, who raised his hands in a sign of surrender before taking one of Meg's hands, kissing it and silkily replying, "Until we meet again, Meg."

Meg blushed with a small smile, "Until we meet again...Philippi."

Philippi gave a dashing smile before striding down the steps where Raoul and I waited; at least the rain had stopped. I looked to Raoul and noticed the grim look on his face, and if looks could kill Philippi would surely be dead. He didn't seem fazed however; he just started to whistle a tune as we walked to our awaiting carriage.

Philippi opened the door for Raoul and I to step in, I thanked him before he climbed in as well and lay back comfortably. Raoul gave the driver the signal to go and we rode off in silence, I simply stared out the window as I tried not to notice the tension radiating off of Raoul.

Finally Raoul ended the silence by stating, "You will leave her alone."

Philippi and I both looked up in confusion. Philippi seeming to comprehend his brother's words before I did glared at him and demanded, "Why? What right do you have to tell me who I can and cannot court?"

I looked at Raoul shocked. Philippi taking an interest in Meg was a fantastic thing, why was Raoul so against it?

Raoul remained silent until finally he replied, "She is a friend of Christine's and if you were to break her heart she would never want to visit Christine at home because of you. For once you need to grow up and realize your weak constitution for beautiful women has consequences, and if you do not have better sense to control it then kindly pick your prey wisely."

Philippi's jaw clenched asking, "How would you know, _brother dear_, that I am not serious about this one? Meg is a very charming girl and an elegant dancer too."

Raoul's eyes held fire as he said, "You're not serious about Meg so leave her alone. I will not have you breaking her heart, are we understood?"

Philippi gave a stiff nod before glancing out the window and avoiding Raoul's gaze. I stared at Raoul out of the corner of my eye in contemplation. Maybe, just maybe, calling off the wedding wouldn't be such a bad idea. Raoul seems very possessive of Meg, but not in a brotherly way. Perhaps, Raoul cared for Meg like he cares for me, but it's too soon to tell. I'll have to watch him interact with her a while longer.

This could be a good thing.

**Hey guys, I feel kind of bad that I updated with such a short chapter but it is an update, and this is what happens when you give me absolutely fantastic news on a Friday and I have a three day weekend. So, guess whose Show Choir is going to perform at the Carnegie Music Hall in New York?! Yep, MINE! We'll be there April 11-15, I can't wait! Okay, tell me what you thought,**

**1- Christine's reaction to Erik's story?**

**2- Her letter?**

**3- Meg and Philippi?**

**4- Raoul becoming defensive over Meg?**

**PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! 8D **


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